


Walking After You

by Avery_Chase



Category: Agent Carter - Fandom, Angie Martinelli - Fandom, Cartinelli - Fandom
Genre: Agent Carter AU, Bisexual Peggy Carter, F/F, Femslash, Marvel Universe, Peggy Carter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 88,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3586407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Chase/pseuds/Avery_Chase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a clue leads her into the heart of a Russian HYDRA base camp, Peggy Carter is found near death in a chamber by the Howling Commandos and a very distraught SSR recovery team. She wakes up in what's meant to be a familiar room, in a familiar city, in a familiar time but after being a spy for so long things aren't what they seem and it only complicates when a woman she can't remember tells her about a man she tried to forget.</p><p>A fun attempt to bridge the Agent Carter universe with the MCU and the comic universe with angst and feels. AU for the most part.</p><p>La Vie En Rose isn't necessarily a prequel but there are things worth reading in there that are referenced here. </p><p>http://archiveofourown.org/works/3350450/chapters/7330106</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

The air felt heavy. How can air feel heavy? She inhales sharply, the air stale in her nostrils. Heavy and stale. Hospital. I must be in a hospital. How? Why am I in a hospital? Her eyes open slowly, staring up at a white ceiling, the gentle whirring of an overhead fan, pushing that stale heavy air, a radio playing and the occasional car horn honk reaching her ears. Her mouth feels dry, sandpaper tongue stuck to the roof of a sour feeling mouth. She pushes up onto her elbows slowly and sees she’s on a cot, wearing an unfamiliar white t-shirt, the SSR logo emblazoned in the chest and a pair of khaki trousers. These were not her clothes and it was a point of consternation that someone had undressed her, hidden her clothes somewhere and put her in this. She wiggles her toes under the stiff cotton sheet and lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She looks around, takes in the wide open window, the breeze billowing the curtains, the monitor that has been shut off for awhile tucked into the corner by the top of the bed.

Directly in front of the bed is a large white wooden door. Across from her is a nightstand where a radio sits, voices rambling something she still can’t quite make out. Her head feels like it’s been stuffed cotton and as she sits up, she hears the sound of footsteps approaching. She shifts, turns and swings her legs over the side of the bed, flexing her calves and ankles. She may be wearing an SSR shirt but this was decidedly not an SSR facility.

  
The door opened slowly and a young woman in a starched shirt and skirt entered, her hair done up and lipstick expertly applied. Everything about her glittered and sparkled. It made her very uneasy. “Good morning Agent Carter.” She greeted, a hint of warmth in her tone despite how flat it still sounded to Peggy’s ears. Peggy studied the woman, her green eyes holding her own gaze expectantly. She seemed familiar somehow but she just couldn’t remember where she’d seen her. Peggy suddenly felt self-conscious. She must look a mess and she quickly brought her hands to her hair, trying to finger comb it out a bit. The woman approached, holding a tray, carefully balanced as she placed it onto a rolling table, pushing it towards Peggy expectantly. “You must be hungry.”

  
“Who are you?” Peggy looked up from the tray, her stomach betraying her as she made eye contact with the woman in front of her, eyes quickly scanning for a name and rank. “Where am I?”

  
A look of sadness flickered across the woman’s features before she adjusted herself, trying to assert some air of control in the situation. “You’re in a hospital.”

  
“I gathered as much.” Peggy retorted, taking the glass of water the woman offered. She probably should’ve been less eager to drink it but there was something in the woman’s eyes that said this wasn’t laced with poison. If they wanted to kill her, they would’ve just done it. “Where?”

  
“You’re in New York.”

  
“What happened?”

  
She swallowed again, straightening up and looking around the room as though there would be an answer hidden somewhere. “You were in an accident.”

  
Peggy’s gaze pinned the woman to the spot, demanding her to continue without saying a word. She poured out another glass of water, drinking it as though the cold liquid was washing out the cobwebs. The woman had to admit Peggy still sent shivers down her spine. “An accident doesn’t warrant this cozy little space. Where am I really?”

  
“You’re in an SSR facility in New York. You were involved in a serious accident.”

  
“Fatalities?”

  
She gave a curt nod, her fingers worrying at her sides. “Yes.”

  
“Steve?”

  
“Captain Rogers is unaccounted for at the moment.”

  
Peggy’s eyes closed tight, her jaw set, lips drawn into a thin line. “Where is Howard Stark?”

  
“Mr. Stark is deceased.”

  
“Was he the fatality?” Peggy looked up, eyes welling with tears she would not shed in front of this supposed officer. It was irking her that she couldn’t quite place this woman, that her uniform was wrong and that the air, despite the open window and billowing curtains, was stale.

  
“Yes.”

  
“Liar.” Her reply was dangerous in tone, far more menacing than she intended. “Howard wasn’t anywhere near me…” Peggy reached for the fork, palming it and standing up slowly. “You’re going to start telling me the truth.” Peggy stopped in her tracks. The floor was warm where it should’ve been cool and the air still hadn’t moved; she felt nothing coming from the window. “What happened to me? What happened to Howard Stark?”

  
“Please don’t press that into my brachial artery…” the woman replied, immediately backing up and allowing space. She dropped a small remote at her feet, hands up in surrender.

  
Peggy stilled, watching the woman as she backed up as far as she could in the room, her back pressed against the wall. “What’s that for?” Peggy looked around the room again, really seeing it for the first time. She noticed a small camera in the far left corner, just above where the woman was standing, a steady red light indicating it was on and recording. “Who’s watching us?”

  
“S.H.I.E.L.D.” she replied, still eyeing the fork in Peggy’s right hand.

  
“What’s S.H.I.E.L.D?” Peggy asked, immediately turning and pushing the bed up against the door, blocking it as best she could. If they were heavily armed, she’d only bought herself a few seconds. She wasn’t sure about the windows but she could use the woman as leverage; she didn’t look like much of a fighter.

  
“The organization you started with Mr. Stark. Formerly the SSR.” The woman’s head canted to the side. “You don’t remember anything do you?”

  
Peggy turned her attention from the door back to the woman still frozen by the far wall. “No I don’t.”

  
The woman swallowed hard, a wave of sadness washing over her as she bent to retrieve the small remote, still holding Peggy’s intense gaze. “Let’s trade.” She pressed the button two long three short on the remote before holding it out to Peggy. “I’ll take the fork, you take this.”

  
“Why did you tell them stand down?”

  
The woman had forgotten Peggy was a code breaker. The corner of her mouth quirked into a sad smile as she replied, “I don’t think you’re going to hurt me.”

  
“You thought I’d go for the lungs. Fairly confident I can just jam this into your eye socket and it’d be just as effective.” Peggy said, still listening for footfalls on the other side of the door. Maybe they’ll storm the windows. She reached over toward the radio and shut it off, still palming the fork in her hand.

  
“I trust you not to hurt me, Agent.” She extended her hand farther, taking small tentative steps towards Peggy, the remote in her palm. Peggy turned the fork in her grip, the tines pressing into her palm as she held it out towards the woman, taking the remote with her left, holding eye contact as they exchanged items. That shiver passed down her spine again and the woman felt her resolve waver; she couldn’t lie but she couldn’t drop the truth on her so quickly either. “Thank you.”

  
Peggy folded her arms across her chest, staring at the woman as she pocketed the fork and stood at ease. “What happened to me?”  
“You were badly injured overseas on a rescue mission.”

  
“Rescue mission? For whom?”

  
“James Barnes.”

  
Peggy’s eyes narrowed. Bucky. “How?”

  
“You very stubbornly left without telling anyone and by the time Thompson and overhead realized, they were essentially leaving on a recovery mission.”

  
“Leviathan?”

  
“No, Hydra. We have been unable to track Leviathan.”  
“And Barnes?”

  
“Whereabouts unknown.” She lied, hoping her voice sounded as neutral as possible. “We are still actively searching for him.”

  
Peggy paced the room, eyes darting around, noting that the windows were fake the air was warm from a consistent airflow and the same horn honked every two minutes. Either traffic was slow or this was all a very intricate fabrication. The camera just above the woman was the only one in the room and if the woman needed to send signals out, it was possible that they weren’t listening to the conversation. She rounded the bed and approached the rolling table, helping herself to the water, her stomach growling for the sandwich and fresh fruits that sat on the plate. With my luck, that’s poisoned. She drank, eyeing the woman in her periphery. She was young, in relatively good shape, a little on the model side and jittery. “Who sent you?”

  
“S.H.I.E.L.D.”

  
“Who really sent you? You’re not an agent or an officer. You wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes in boot with me.”

 

“They said the same of Steve Rogers.”

  
Peggy turned, the glass gripped in her hand tight enough to crack as she closed the distance between herself and the woman. She was close to knocking her out. “Just because I gave you the fork doesn’t mean I won’t find other things to kill you with.”  
“You won’t hurt me, Agent. We both know that.” The woman held Peggy’s fiery gaze, her chest rising and falling as though she’d run a marathon in the two steps that Peggy cleared to stare her down. She was still stunning, even without make up and wielding a glass as a weapon. “I’m here because they felt you needed a face you could trust.”

  
“They.”

  
She nodded, belying a confidence she didn’t feel. “S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re still an agent and they still care.”

  
“Your uniform is terrible.” Peggy replied, ignoring the comment.

  
“I’ll tell that to the people in charge.”

  
Peggy looked up at the camera. “Terrible uniform.”

  
The woman smirked, watching Peggy through her lashes. “I’m here because there are things that you need to know that may shock you. It was believed that it would be best to transition you with familiarity rather than just a briefing when you whenever you woke up.”

  
“How long was I out?”

  
“Sixty years.”

  
Peggy dropped the glass.  
The woman immediately cleared Peggy, picking her up and depositing her back onto the bed, the strength and speed surprising both women. Peggy stared at the floor in shock before she scrubbed at her face with her hands. “I’ve been in this room for sixty years.” She whispered through her fingers, voice muffled. She felt the warm air grow cold, a pair of hands wrapping around her wrists. The woman was crouched in front of her, her voice low, concern paining her tone.

  
“When you were found, the Russians…they’d put you in some kind of machine. It seemed they were trying to replicate the serum but had attempted to destroy all evidence of that, along with you. The team brought you back but you were unresponsive. Howard built a stasis chamber, based off of what they found you in and what…Captain Rogers had been in. When your vitals began to stabilize, you were taken out, put into ICU and finally here, on the off chance that you’d wake up.”

  
Peggy was silent her eyes staring off into space; she vaguely recalled gunfire, climbing into an air vent but that could’ve just been last Tuesday with Mr. Jarvis. “Why can’t I remember?”

  
“That will take some time. You were out for a bit.” She waved her left arm around, encapsulating the room. “The eggheads figured that if you woke up somewhere that felt familiar, you could ease into everything.”

  
Peggy pulled her hands away from her face, studying the woman with teary eyes. She wasn’t a crier but when someone told you that you’ve been asleep for fifty years, one has to break with tradition. “Did a poor job.”

  
The woman chuckled. She realized this was far too intimate for any agent or officer to be engaged in but they’d picked her, they’d asked her and she’d spent all this time waiting for this moment. “We have an apartment for you, all the amenities in place so that we can work on your recovery.” She straightened up again, fixing her skirt and using the tips of her ring fingers to swipe away tears. Peggy looked up at the woman, surprised that she’d been crying. “I’ll let the medical staff know you’re awake.”

  
“You mean they don’t know?” Peggy drawled, nodding toward the camera.

  
“Protocol, Agent.”

  
Peggy nodded. “Of course.”

  
“Would you mind moving the bed? It’s kinda the only way out of here.” The woman said with a small smile, an accent Peggy recognized slipping through.

  
Peggy’s brow furrowed as she shifted the bed away from the door. The woman opened it, pulled out the fork and held it out toward Peggy. “See you soon.” She closed the door between them, her heart breaking at the prospect of what was to come.

\-------------------------

“Not bad Martinelli.” Natasha leaned up against the doorframe, watching Peggy as she approached the windows on a monitor. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, casually chewing gum.

  
Angie pulled her hair out of the bun, letting it cascade down her shoulders as she took a seat next to the closest monitor, watching Peggy as though she hadn’t just spent ten minutes with her. She sighed and kicked off the dress shoes she’d been working on breaking in, flexing her toes under the console table. “Yeah, well…acting classes paid off.”

  
“Forgot you were on Broadway.” Natasha replied, dragging a nearby rolling chair and plopping in it. “You okay?” the haughty air she carried around disappearing as she leaned closer to Angie.

  
Angie nodded silently, eyes glassy as she watched Peggy analyzing the room, throwing things out of the window and shaking her head in disbelief. “Thank you for turning the sound off.”

  
Natasha shrugged. “Figured you’d need a moment.”

  
“What if she doesn’t come back?” Angie whispered, watching Peggy opening the drawers with interest. Probably looking for a gun.  
“She remembered Stark, Steve…”

  
“She didn’t remember me.” Angie couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice as she fidgeted with a particularly stubborn button on her dress shirt. How did Peggy wear this for four years? she thought to herself. “I was standing right in front of her and she didn’t recognize me.” She watched Peggy in the room. She seemed feral, as though the survivor part of her brain that had been in combat was still fighting to escape. Maybe she thought this was all part of Hydra or Leviathan; she was still a hostage somehow. “I’m in this get up and she just saw a person. She didn’t see me.”

  
“You should be glad she can even see. Some of those cryo things are a nightmare.” Natasha offered, tossing her gum into the trash before leaning forward on her elbows and turning Angie’s chair to face away from the monitors. “To be fair, she was a Popsicle for awhile, you can’t expect everything to come rushing back at once. Steve couldn’t remember how to tie his shoes for a couple months, we had to keep getting him those old man Velcro sneakers.” Natasha replied noticing the way Angie bristled at the mention of her friend. “It’s gonna take some time, you just gotta be patient.”

  
Angie watched Peggy prod the sandwich with the fork before she looked up, right into the camera, right at Angie. Angie held her breath, her heart hammering in her chest as she held eye contact with Peggy through the monitor. Peggy lifted the sandwich and took a bite. “I hope so.”


	2. Pieces

2

Fury’s good eye focused on the three women in front of him. It had been two weeks. Two whole weeks passed since Carter had woken up and mucked up his struggling organization. He had to give them old timers credit; they were stronger than they looked. He hadn’t opposed Angie’s assistance, hell, she’d been the reason they’d kept Carter alive so long but that didn’t mean he liked what he was hearing, he was barely keeping this organization together as it is. Coulson was neck deep with Kree and Asgardian problems, the CIA was digging in its heels with relinquishing control and there were rumors that something was happening overseas that they couldn’t get proper information on. To make matters worse, Steve was distancing himself more and more from everyone. Something this big was only going to drive him farther away. He inhaled and pursed his lips. He didn’t like the idea of having to keep more secrets from Steve but he didn’t see that he had much of a choice in the matter.

Old people are stubborn.

Natasha and Maria flanked Angie, who’d kept her hands clasped in front of her diminutively while both agents had their arms crossed. He knew having kept Howard’s secret was a mistake, he knew keeping it twice was tempting fate and as he rounded the corner of his desk, he knew that the only way he could get anything back on track, it meant having to let this happen.

“You aren’t field trained.” He said, his head cocked to the side with disapproval. “Watching a couple of seasons of _Nikita_ and taking a tae bo class won’t fix that. She’s dangerous right now.”

“You didn’t say that about Rogers.” Hill murmured earning a dirty look from the director.

“I was awhile back.” Angie replied with a shrug. It was the 70s and she had been watching Wonder Woman while Janet Van Dyne taught her some moves. “I was field certified. I’ve watched _The Bourne Identity_ andit’s like dancing, pretty sure I can pick it up easy.” Angie offered, forgetting that Nick Fury never smiled and if he did it was usually because he was winning. He smiled. “I’ve been here long enough. Hell, I remember when you came aboard…I think I’ve got experience.”

“Not the same thing.” He countered adjusting his leather jacket before leaning up against his desk. They’d taken up space in one of the old SSR offices, operating underground and while he wasn’t one for grand spaces, he missed his big office window and having technology from this century. “She could have adverse reactions, night terrors PTSD…she’s better suited to staying here than going wherever it is you’re proposing.”

“She’s been cooped up for two weeks, Director Fury. If she was exhibiting those symptoms, we woulda seen them.” Angie replied, feeling her spine straighten up. It didn’t matter how long she’d been working there, at Howard’s insistence, she knew they thought little of her. She wasn’t going to be bullied by anyone, not after surviving what she had to get here.  

“The doctors are telling me she thinks this is some elaborate Hydra prank.” Fury replied flatly, doing his best to keep his cool. Angie had been crucial to their being able to bring Steve back into the world, he couldn’t risk blowing his top at her, not when the founder of this whole operation was in the facility, writing swear words and calling for food every half hour. “You were in there with her, you tell me. Does she seem like she’s all there?”

Angie weighed her words carefully. She remembered what her pop said, _If you let them think they’ve got you on the ropes, let em, then catch em with the okie doke._ “If you keep her longer, keep poking and prodding her, you’re going to lose her.” said Angie, her arms folding in front of her chest, mirroring the power stance Maria and Natasha held. “Trust me. I know her.”

“I can keep watch.” Natasha offered. She’d come to like the plucky actress, despite their occasional bickering and she knew Hill wouldn’t leave her cushy job with Stark Industries. They needed Hill keeping an eye on Stark more than they needed her here, wasting time, watching Netflix and flirting with Clint.

“She doesn’t know you.” Angie replied.

“She doesn’t know you either.” Natasha quipped. Angie glowered at Natasha. “What, worried she’s gonna take a shine to me?”

Angie turned, hands balled into fists. “I’m still not quite sure you’re a hundred percent American, can you really reform a communist?”

“Anti-Russian sentiment. I mean if we want Carter to adjust, we gotta find the way to get her mindset out of the fifties…” Natasha said to Fury with a shrug.

“What about Barton?” Maria asked, hoping to put an end to the bickering.

“She doesn’t know him.” Natasha and Angie replied in unison.

“Enough.” Fury growled. “Martinelli, I can only imagine what this is doing to you but you have to understand where I’m coming from here. Agent Carter, Peggy, is not herself right now. You saw that. She doesn’t remember what happened, has no idea what’s going on and only has gaps in her memory, we can’t risk her out in the open.”

“She wouldn’t be out in the open. She’d be at home. With me.”

Maria watched Angie. She’d grown up hearing stories about the legendary Peggy Carter, the woman who helped defeat Nazis and Hydra. When she joined the agency, she heard whispers about the woman who’d volunteered to be a test subject for a serum that emulated what had been used on Steve Rogers.

The woman next to her, pleading in earnest to keep Peggy safe had to be well into her eighties but didn’t look a day over twenty six. Maria had access to the Stark labs, seen gods fall from the sky, aliens through wormholes and read some of the horrors in old Hydra files, but knowing that this woman had voluntarily subjected herself to some of the strangest sciences and come out the other side sane, sent shivers down her spine. Angela Martinelli made deals with people whose motives she didn’t understand to protect someone she loved. “Sir, she had every opportunity to attack Angie in order to escape and didn’t. While I don’t agree with sending in a civilian, Carter didn’t read her as a threat the way she would’ve if we sent Natasha in. She would’ve thrown her right out of the fake window.”

“Well thanks for that.”

Maria gave her a pained look. “We can’t treat Carter as a threat if we need her as an ally. Especially considering our present situation.”

“She didn’t know who she was.” Fury replied.

“Even if she did, she still didn’t attack her, or see her as a threat.”

“She had a fork though.” Natasha mumbled.

“Not helping.” Angie growled.

Fury leaned back, eyeing Hill curiously. “So what’re you suggesting?”

“We don’t have the personnel and she doesn’t trust anyone, field-certify Martinelli. When Carter is medically cleared, send them home. See what happens.”

Angie’s eyes went wide. She’d only met Maria a few times while they were in the process of setting up S.H.I.E.L.D’s secondary network. Fury trusted her word more than anyone else in what remained of the organization. She’d been the one to call her to make sure they’d moved Peggy out of the hospital before the attack on New York.

Natasha shrugged. “I’m not busy.”

Fury begrudgingly nodded. “Where exactly is home?”

“Upper East Side. One of Stark’s old properties. He left it to Peggy…I just…stayed on.” She shrugged. She’d done incredibly risky things and still managed to feel like she was still a teenager whenever she was in the room with Nick Fury. “It’s safe. Tony checked it out.”

“We’ll need to do a sweep.” Fury said with a huff. “The whole thing.”

“I haven’t been followed in years, sir. I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“You wanna be an agent? You’re gonna have to deal with unnecessary.”

Angie gave a tight-lipped nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Romanov, be nice.”

Natasha smiled. “Of course.”

“Martinelli. Dismissed.” Angie nodded and practically ran out of the small office. He watched her retreating form.

“She’s tough for a secretary.” Maria muttered with a shake of her head.

“Toughest broad in the steno pool.” Natasha added with a grin.

“Sir?” Hill asked Fury, her right eyebrow cocked in concern. “Still paranoid?”

“We’re going to have two gun toting octogenarians on our hands here. I trust that you will both do _everything_ to make sure Rogers doesn’t find out about this.” Maria and Natasha nodded in unison.

“What about Tony?” Natasha asked. “He still sees Angie on occasion.”

“I’ll worry about Tony.” Hill replied, “Or atleast Pepper will.”

“Keep Potts out of this. The less people know the better. The last thing I need is for three old people with vendettas coming at me.”

 

 

Peggy watched the electronic lines as they moved across the black monitor screen, silently reading her heart rate. This room was cold and sterile, chrome and machinery as the doctor moved quickly with drawing blood, his mouth tight as he worked. She felt tired for someone who apparently had spent the last sixty years as a vegetable. “I have to say, it’s an honor meeting you.” He said quietly, applying a band-aid to Peggy’s arm.

“Charmed.” Peggy replied. The blood work and trips to the infirmary were slowly becoming the highlights of her stay. They had arranged for her to move into private quarters with a proper bed and bathroom, allowing her the opportunity to wear something a bit more her speed. She was disappointed when the room didn’t have a window. They didn’t monitor her as much in this room as they had in the mock up which meant she spent a lot of her time doing morning workouts that she remembered and eating. She tested one of the phones and was pleased to find it was connected to someone who would bring her food whenever she wanted.

She had endured things called EKGs, MRI’s CAT scans and felt anxious as the machines whirred and clicked, hummed and buzzed. It reminded her of the thing they loaded Steve into. The thing she remembered seeing out of in her dreams.

She spotted the woman on occasion, watching her from behind the windows of an exam room when they had her lay down in the MRI. She always looked concerned and tired. There was always a redheaded woman with her, arms crossed, eyes blazing with intensity as they whispered to each other behind the glass. Peggy hated her.

She was always greeted by the same doctor who’s name she never bothered to learn. He would then do memory tests with her, ask her to recall things at the end of their sessions and she would, feigning difficulty because it was fun to watch him try to sound out the words as though she were an infant. She took the pen and paper he always gave her and drew out routes and paths, sketching out the faces of the people who were always in their positions when they walked the halls to her sessions and testing. As she neared the end of the pad, she’d written down names, dates and numbers of people she remembered. She would flush that sheet and do it again, making sure she could recall the information again and again. Everyone seemed tense, anxious and nervous, as though they were waging a secret war. Her theory that she was under Hydra control was disappearing; why would they spend so much time building an elaborate system with a bulky acronym like S.H.I.E.L.D just to mess with her head?

“A lot of people joined S.H.I.E.L.D because of you.” He continued, missing her snide comment.

Peggy watched him as he continued avoiding her gaze, tossing out the garbage and labeling her blood. “Why do you always collect blood?”

“Procedure. Nothing terrible.” He placed them into a biohazard Ziplock and wrote URGENT in black marker. “Last time I promise. I know it’s odd.” He gave her a sympathetic smile before leaving the room. Peggy looked up and around again, looking for cameras. She couldn’t help but smile; the doctor had been nice enough to take all of the sharp objects out of the room.

 

            The memory tests were tedious and boring. She’d memorized the pattern the second day there. She felt her memory slowly coming back, as though large portions of her brain were still thawing out despite having been up and about for weeks. They had been careful to not show her any calendars or use anything out of the ordinary in front of her but on occasion, she caught glimpses of palm-sized screens lit up and it made her wary. Hydra had things that glowed too.

She remembered S.H.I.E.L.D, Howard was ecstatic about it. They were on his estate, there was a woman…She had been in the office late and an encrypted message arrived. They had no real contracts with the government, not yet. The government wanted more weapons and Howard refused. He was out of the business. He had been focusing on the World’s Fair and finally putting together something he’d been working on using a piece of recovered technology.  She remembered arguing with him about going. She argued with someone else before writing a note, kissing the paper and leaving it on a nightstand.

She looked around the room. It was bright, clean and tidy for all the space it took up. A table, two chairs, herself and Doctor No Name; she stared at the logo on his tag, big S.H.I.E.L.D and an eagle even that she didn’t recognize. Trying to remember things was like using your tongue to dig at a stuck popcorn kernel; she kept at it until she felt she was trying too hard. The location was familiar looking enough but the equipment she had been subject to while here, those were foreign things. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Hydra was going a long way to mess with her.

            “Agent Carter?” the doctor asked, sliding a notepad and pen towards her. “Would you mind listing the things you recall from yesterday’s session?”

            She uncapped the fountain pen, eyeing the tip, briefly contemplating jamming it into the doctor’s eye socket and making her way out before she set to work writing down the same words from yesterday’s session.

_Brat_

            She smirked at the paper, sliding the pad back towards the doctor, who shook his head. “That last one.”

“New word. Just came to me. Must be working.”

He removed the sheet and placed it to the side, sliding the pad back to her, watching the way she rolled the still uncapped pen between her fingers. She brought the tip down to the sheet, sketching as he spoke. “What do you remember?”

He watched the pen as she drew, simple lines at first, idle doodling the way one would while on a particularly irritating phone call. “Where is Howard Stark?”

“Mr. Stark is unavailable.” He replied coolly, jotting a note into the folder.

“The woman I spoke with said he was dead.” She regarded him cooly, watching the tick in his cheek. She was a very good actress. She watched him tense. “Why would she tell me that while you tell me he’s _unavailable?”_

“She misspoke.”

Peggy snorted, returning to her sketch. He watched as she added intricate details to an umbrella that a monkey was carrying. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes I do.”

“Then you know what I can do.”

He tensed.

She looked up. “Where is Howard Stark?” The pen stilled. His heart rate picked up.

“Agent Carter, I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you, I’m simply here to help get you through a difficult situation.” he replied as neutrally as possible, his left hand disappearing under the table. The door to her left opened and two guards appeared. She stared at him, deep brown eyes boring into his dull green ones.

“Session’s over.” she smirked, leaning back in the uncomfortable plastic seat, tapping her fingers on the linoleum table. “When do I speak to the director?”

“When you’re medically cleared.”

“When will that be?”

“When you stop writing made up words and accusing me of being in Hydra.”

Peggy snorted. “Shat is not a made up word.” She stood up, slipping the fountain pen into her sleeve and walking out with the guards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

            “Sir.” He stood still, his left hand shaking as he wiped away beads of sweat from his top lip. “She’s asking about Stark.”

            Fury leaned back in his chair, his good eye staring up at the ceiling while he palmed the arms of his worn down chair. He had a great chair at the old office. “What did you tell her?”

            “The agent who went in for the initial interview she told her that Stark was dead. Every time she asked during our sessions, I said he was unavailable.”

“Dead is a kind of unavailable.” Fury replied flippantly, pushing away from the desk. “Where is she now?”

“In her room.”

“Sedated?”

“No. I. I paged for assistance.” he admitted, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “She scares me sir. She went without a problem. She believes this to be an elaborate Hydra experiment.”

Fury nodded, steepling his fingers. He didn’t like this at all. Rogers hadn’t been this keyed up and he’d sprinted into the middle of Times Square barefoot in broad daylight. “Let me see what you’ve got.” He held out his hand for the file, still cursing this paper crap. He hoped Tony would complete the new operations center soon; all this ancient spy mole crap was getting to him. He flipped through it, noting the dates and numbers; coordinates. So she was remembering something, she was just putting it into code. Smart. “Keep up with the sessions, maybe dial them back. I’ll get a hold of the _agent_ who interviewed her first and see if we can get her to understand what’s going on.”

“Yes sir.” he turned to leave.

“Oh and Pete? She scares me too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            Angie always hated how big the house felt. It was big when Peggy was here and it felt like home with just the two of them but she was miserable alone. She stayed in their bedroom, occasionally opening the doors and windows to air out the rest of the space. She briefly contemplated moving out and putting the house on the market but the thought of Peggy waking up, asking to go home and then bringing her somewhere else kept her from going through with it.

            Tony insisted they stay.

            She pulled another outfit out of the closet, checking it for wear before packing it up for Peggy. She had gotten into the routine of pulling out some of her favorite outfits and leaving them in Peggy’s room for her. She practiced staying unseen, watching Peggy as she went to her sessions, wearing the outfit she’d left for her. She hoped it would jog her memory.

            She stopped at the nightstand, taking the note she’d kept there for years. She’d memorized every curve, every delicate slope and line on the page, careful to not let tears fall on it even as she re-read it for the millionth time. The last sentence always broke her heart. _I will explain everything when I get back. I promise my love._

 

 

 

 

 

 

            Natasha hated when Fury interrupted her _Gossip Girl_ marathons but he sounded every flavor of concerned. She knocked on the door before letting herself in and closing the door behind her. “Do you ever leave?”

            Fury looked up from his desk. “Where the hell would I go? This place is a rat trap.”

            Natasha chuckled before tossing herself into the nearby chair across from Fury’s desk. “This chair sucks.”

            “It’s probably older than you are.”

She ran her palms on the frayed armrests. “Probably right. You wanted to see me?”

            He slid the papers across the desk towards Natasha wordlessly, watching her expression change. She immediately stood up, spreading the sheets out on the table like a puzzle, her head tilting to and fro, eyes narrowed as she started seeing a pattern. It always impressed him how Natasha could shift from cantankerous twenty something to murder machine in no time flat.

“It’s a map.” She said, taking a small step back and cocking her head again. The lines Peggy had drawn all connected together, weak topography, notes, numbers and codes running along the sides and margins where she’d been writing simple words and dates.

“To what?” Fury asked, standing on his side of the desk and trying to see what Natasha was seeing.

“Where’d you get this?”

“Carter.”

She looked up. “She’s got a map in her mind? How?”

Fury gave a sympathetic shrug. “No idea. Doc said she creeped him out today. Wanted to see Howard, wanted to know why Angie said he was dead when he’d been telling her that he was unavailable.”

Natasha made a non-committal noise. “He’s not wrong.”

“What’s that map lead to?”

“I’d have to lay it out over something else to see but it’s definitely Eastern Europe, based on the terrain and what could be elevations, mountains most like. Maybe an old Hydra base?”

“How soon can you check it?”

“I can do it now if you need it.”

“What about Angie?”

Natasha’s jaw tensed. She’d almost forgotten her in the rush of solving the riddle. “She’s out today.”

“Has she seen her?”

“No. She watches her a lot though. Leaves things for her in the room while she’s out, clothes mostly. She’s asked to watch the sessions but you know how Pete gets. So she watches her when she’s in the halls, or makes sure she’s being fed. They haven’t had contact since that day.” She glanced down at the table, trying to commit the method to memory. “It’s kind of sad.”

Fury nodded. “Maybe we should consider letting them see each other. See if it jostles something loose.”

“She might be pissed that Angie said Howard was dead.”

“She’s pissed at everything.” Fury replied. “Find me the map for this and work on getting those two talking.”


	3. Maps

3

 

Angie understood why Peggy had always been so cocky. She could take a lickin and keep on ticking.

“C’mon Angie.” Natasha goaded, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “I didn’t hit you that hard.”

They had been sparring for a few weeks and Angie was a quick study. Natasha found herself grimacing from time to time after a particularly powerful combo knocked her flat on her ass. She realized she wouldn’t have to hold back and for someone like her, that was always a plus. Natasha rolled her shoulders, a grin on her face as she adjusted her mouthpiece with a gloved fist.

“Sure you didn’t.” Angie groaned, her abdomen tender from Natasha’s elbow. She pushed up, squared her body and circled around, the bruise on her cheek tingling as she watched Natasha’s gloved fists.

“Don’t watch my hands, watch my torso. Hands and eyes lie, the body’s gotta do the work.” Natasha advised, swinging wide with her right while bringing her left leg out for a sweep. Angie blocked the sweep and ducked the punch, surging forward and driving her shoulder into Natasha’s midsection with the force of a freight train. “There it is…” Natasha wheezed, tapping Angie’s back.

Angie pushed up, holding out her hand toward the redhead. Natasha kept her guard up, rolling onto her shoulder and popping up. “Nice one.” She clapped the back of Angie’s glove with hers. “You’re pretty tough for an old broad.”

Angie shook her head. “That will never stop being funny.”

“Good to know I didn’t beat the sarcasm out of you.” Natasha unwrapped her hands, flexing her fingers as she worked. She liked hanging around Steve, he was young and grumpy while Angie was his complete opposite. She knew Steve was a super soldier, bred from a program that killed everyone who tried to replicate it. She was staring at someone who’d survived. They walked towards the benches, the sounds of sparring echoing around them.

“Have you spoken to her?”

“No.” Angie tensed, focusing on rolling the wrapping for her left hand. “Haven’t been able to.”

“Able to or you haven’t tried?”

Angie swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d been waiting patiently for Peggy and now that she was here, it didn’t feel like she was. “Both. I want to give her space. I think she’s coming around. I heard her complaining about the gowns and jumpsuits. She’s been wearing the clothes I’ve left for her. I keep tabs.”

“She’s surly.”

Angie nodded, a mirthless smile on her face. “She ain’t _that_ bad.”

Natasha watched Angie tuck the wrap into her gym bag. “You should see her.”

“And say what? She doesn’t remember me. It’s like she’s blocking me out or somethin.’”

“You said she did a lot to protect you. Maybe her subconscious is doing it.”

Angie looked up from her right hand, the wrapping partially undone. “The last time I saw her, we were fighting. I don’t think her subconscious is doin’ her favors.”

“She didn’t attack you, remember? So she knows but she doesn’t know. It’s like there’s two people sharing one brain. I’ve seen that kind of behavior before.”

“In Barton?”

“Bruce, actually.” Natasha shivered. She hadn’t realized how fast she could run until she had to outmaneuver Bruce in the bowels of the Helicarrier during his rampage. He still apologized for that.

“Gives me the creeps that that big green guy lives inside of that nice guy.” Angie said, remembering the first time she met Doctor Banner. He politely declined the coffee she’d offered. “Upsets my stomach.” He said with a sad smile.

“From what the records show, Steve wasn’t much to look at to begin with.” She noticed the way Angie purposely flexed the knuckles on her unwrapped right hand, joints popping. “Banner’s pretty calm and has it under control. I’m not saying that Peggy is like Bruce, but, right now, she’s sorting things out.”

“It wasn’t like this for Steve.” Angie sighed. She’d been the woman behind the curtain, directing everyone like a troupe of actors when he’d arrived to the facility. She purposely kept her distance, spending time with Peggy and hoping that no one answered his repeated questions about her and Howard’s whereabouts. She was paying for that now, knowing that Peggy was asking for Steve and Howard. _Not me._

“Steve lost everything.”

“Everybody lost something.” _Maybe we should just get someone to pretend to be Peggy. He needs to move on from her, she moved on from him. We can arrange a meeting in a hospice._

_You want to fabricate a Peggy for Steve to say goodbye to?_

_Yes. It’s for the best. You said it yourself. He’s performing well enough but seems to be holding back. She moved on when she believed he was dead and you got this fancy pants agency to show for it. He won’t be able to operate if he’s still holding on to her._ Angie closed her eyes, leaning back to rest on her palms, muscles sore from the practice. “People gotta do things to survive, Nat, you know that. Sacrifices get made, people do things for the greater good. It’s not easy but it’s gotta get done.”

“You sound like him.”

“No I don’t. All that time on ice, he lost his accent.” Angie grinned.

“It bugs you that she asked for him and Howard, doesn’t it?”

“It’d bug you off too if someone you’d done everything for asked you for the weather.” Angie replied tartly.

“Can I ask you something?”

Angie nodded. She’d adjusted quite well to the world, she liked technology, she liked that women had more agency in the world and she liked that she could just do whatever she liked. She hadn’t had many friends and when Howard called her about Peggy, she felt the world shatter. She didn’t want to live and spent most of her time either by Peggy’s bedside, begging Howard to fix her or crying in the house. “Sure.”

She knew what Natasha was going to ask, even as she tried her best to feign finding the words. It was something everyone always wanted to know. It always amused her the fearful reverence that came into their voices when they asked. Natasha had never asked her, not even the first time they’d met, but when she recognized the name, there was a look of awe that crossed the normally stoic spy’s features that made Angie blush. She never gave the same answer, enjoying the quizzical expressions on people’s faces; it played up to her theatrical nature.

“Why did you do it? What was it like?”

Angie tossed the wrap into the bag, looking at her knuckles healing. She thought about the times she’d tended to Peggy’s injuries. The recollection stung. “Like being held under water and learning how to breathe.”

“C’mon, you’re not part fish.”

“How would you know? Maybe I got gills in places you haven’t seen.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “C’mon. What was it like? You’re fast, you’re strong, you…haven’t aged…”

Angie suddenly didn’t want to be theatrical about this. Peggy was in the facility, being studied until she could recall something. She checked in with a few of the doctors who assured her she was fine, she was eating and there hadn’t been much change in her memory. She liked Natasha Romanov, she had been kind to her since they’d met but that didn’t mean she trusted her. Maybe being around for the start of the Cold War made her wary of the former KGB operative. Maybe being a lifelong New Yorker made her jaded. She was waiting to tell Peggy everything, tell her what she’d done; she couldn’t bring herself to tell Natasha because she wasn’t sure Natasha understood what love was.

            “Like being underwater and learning how to breathe.” Angie replied simply, opening her water bottle and ending the conversation. “Maybe a little cold.”

Natasha nodded. She knew the brush off; Steve gave it to her all the time. Old people could be insanely rude. “I still think you should see her. Get some one on one time. Maybe jog her memory.”

“Why’re you so hot to get her to talk to me?” Angie asked accusingly.

“Maybe cause she’s eating up valuable resources and you’re too busy being weird and pining away for her.”

“I think there’s more you’re not tellin’ me.” Angie replied with a shrug. “But I’ll take that answer.”

“We’ve been at this for a month. I’m willing to sign off on your physical today. You’re gonna have to meet with someone at the range so they can sign off on your weapons training.”

            “Why can’t you do it?” Angie asked with incredulity. She’d been training her the entire time and this was the first time she heard anything that sounded like resistance from her. “We’ve been at this the whole time.”

“Favoritism. Fury knows I like you. You’ll need to have someone else’s signature on the paperwork just to sell it.”

            Angie rolled her eyes. “You’re a trained assassin, I’m pretty sure you can forge a signature.”

            “I’m both shocked and honored.”

 

 

 

 

            The door opened to her left. She kept her head bowed, surreptitiously sketching again with her stolen fountain pen. She checked her periphery, disappointed it wasn’t the doctor in full body armor but surprised to see it was her; the woman. She sat up straight, a sardonic smile on her face. It gave Angie the chills.

            “Should I salute you?” she asked sarcastically.

“Nah, you’re good, English.” Angie replied, butterflies in her stomach as she took the seat across from her. She opted to wear simple attire today, forgoing her favorite jeans in favor of slacks, and a simple button down top. It was close enough to what she had been wearing when Peggy was still Peggy. Angie said a silent prayer of thanks for that tiny miracle. She held her gaze, immediately feeling the same heat she felt the first they sat across from each other in the Automat. She watched Peggy’s dark eyes narrow with familiarity, her posture still boarding school girl ridged as spun the pen on the tabletop. _God, what happened to you?_ “How you holdin’ up?”

Peggy noted the informal way the woman spoke to her, leaning in the chair like they’d been old friends; it was a far cry from the way they’d spoken to each other when she woke up. She was good. Real good. She capped the pen, holding it with the tips of her fingers as she studied Angie. The woman didn’t read as nervous anymore; her hands were on the table, eyes bright, small smile on her face. Peggy swallowed, a sense of familiarity tugging at her. “I was wondering where you’ve been.”

Angie brightened, hopeful as she replied. “Really?”

“You’re the only one I like around here so far.”

Angie’s smile faltered. “That’s good to know.”

            “You look different.” Peggy replied gruffly, studying Angie’s outfit.

“Day off.” Angie replied with a simple shrug. Angie swallowed hard, fidgeting with the button on her blazer. It belonged to Peggy and it still smelled like her. She’d been meticulous about keeping her things in order since she left, hoping to return them to their owner. “How’re the sessions going?”

“Entertaining, thank you for asking.” Peggy replied pleasantly, folding her hands on the table. “Why did you tell me Howard Stark is dead?” Peggy vaulted over the pleasantries and went in for the kill. “The good doctor whose name I can’t remember tells me he’s _unavailable._ So. Which is it? Is he dead or unavailable?”

Angie’s eyes bugged. “I guess I can see where dead can be a kind of unavailable…”

Peggy shot Angie a look that sent chills down her spine. “So which is it?”

“I’m sorry Peggy. Howard is dead.”

She leaned back in the chair, the plastic creaking underneath her weight. There was sadness in her eyes, a wave of loss washing over her. “Why did they send you and not the doctor?”

“I asked to see you and you said you didn’t want to deal with him anymore.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Peggy chuckled. The sound was heavily to Angie’s ears. “What happened?”

“Car accident.”

Peggy nodded, rolling her tongue along her teeth. “Told him those cars would kill him.”

“When?”

“1991. Out on Long Island.” Peggy let out a low whistle, lolling her head on her shoulders. “I’m sorry. He was a good man.”

Peggy rolled her right hand on top of the pen, rolling it between her palm and the table. Angie watched her hand before bringing her eyes back up to Peggy’s face; she wouldn’t hurt her. “He was stubborn, arrogant, selfish and a pain in the ass.” she looked up, catching Angie’s gaze and holding it. “He did have his qualities.” she added with a small smile. “I still don’t know your name.”

“Angie.”

Peggy stopped rolling the pen. “Angie.” She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest, her palms sweating and the butterflies in fervor. There was a rush of blood in her ears as she tried to keep calm, caught under Peggy’s intense stare. “Have we met before?”

Angie had two ways to do this: she could say yes, in the receiving room or yes, in an Automat in 1946. She didn’t want to lie, she couldn’t lie to those deep brown eyes, a war going on behind them as she struggled to thread things together. “Yes, we have.” she managed, hoping the answer was neutral enough to get her to continue.

Peggy tilted her head slightly. She heard a disembodied voice, a heavy accent _I choked the life out of her._ She shook her head. Peggy stilled, taking in every inch of Angie as she sat across from her, her sweaty palms clamped over one on the table. She could see another woman, another life, blurring together. She shut her eyes, images colliding together. A uniform, a tag with the name _ANGIE_ in capital letters on cheap plastic. “You worked at the Automat.”

Angie’s heart nearly leapt out of her throat. “While you were working at the telephone company.” Angie offered.

Peggy nodded slowly. “Yes…” She could see her, in that mint green uniform, waving her off after a disagreement. “If it’s been sixty years like you claim, then that’s impossible. You don’t look eighty.”

“Neither do you.”

Peggy tensed. This could be a trap. This could be all part of Hydra’s methods of extracting valuable information from her. She leaned back. She was nice. She was good. She was great actress. _Actress. He saw her, struggling, elbows doing nothing against a figure she couldn’t see, the life slipping out of her. She couldn’t move._ “I think we’re done today.” She pushed up and away from the table, knocking on the door, her back stiff as she watched Angie’s sad reflection in the glass. “I’m not going to see the doctor tomorrow.”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“I know. You’re an actress.” The door opened and a guard nodded. “See you tomorrow, Angie.”

Angie swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to rein her emotions in. She didn’t know what she was expecting. If Peggy had been in a pain in the ass with all her faculties in place, then she was going to be a nightmare trying to recover memories. Maybe all that time she spent waiting for her to wake up had made her sentimental. She blamed it on frequent re-watchings of _The Notebook._ It wasn’t a bad start.


	4. New Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I'm trying to use lyrics and song titles for each chapter. There will be more angst but I really just wanted to get this soppy part out because dragging out angst is the WORST.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

4

 

Peggy scrubbed her face with soapy hands, humming some song that drifted into her mind. She hated smelling and feeling like she was in a lab rat after each visit. She slipped on her trousers and button down shirt, curious about who had been putting the clothes in the room in the first place. She recognized them as her own clothes and always freshly laundered. She didn’t have to call for a meal, a well-groomed attendant stood just outside the door, tray in hand. She thought about Angie as she plopped onto the couch, the leather creaking underneath as she settled in to eat. She was nice. She listened. She cared. There was something honest in those green eyes that she couldn’t quite place. _They wanted someone you were familiar with to be here._ They. S.H.I.E.L.D her generous captives, the faceless nameless men and women shuffling her along the windowless corridors, swiping magnetic key cards and dropping her off to different places. She sighed. It wasn’t her fault that she’d figured out things were off; the woman, Angie, had been committed to the role and Peggy found herself questioning everything. She found herself looking forward to the meetings with her, if only to stare at her and try to figure out why she was so invested in her recovery. _Why she looked so much like someone she may have watched die._

Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she had been in a coma for sixty years and everyone she knew was old, dead or old and dying and by some freak chance, she managed to cheat death.

She ran her fingertips along the cracked leather sofa as she crammed the last of the sandwich in her mouth. Cheeks puffed out, she stood up she opened up a nearby cabinet, moving around her meager things, still hoping to find something useful. She looked up at the cool steel ceiling her shoulders slumped with defeat. “It’s as if they don’t trust you…”

 

_He was a tense as she’d ever seen him, his face screwed up like he had something sour on his tongue. He held out the message, a grim expression on his face as he sat down in his chair, his right hand clutching a tumbler of bourbon, the ice tinkling against the glass._

_“What’s this?” Peggy asked, taking the sheet of paper, staring at the writing in confusion._

_“Message. It’s a hot mess. I think it’s Dum Dum trying to relay some intel.”_

_“Duggan? I thought he was Stateside.”_

_“He was. Then he went back.” Howard took a sip, “Love you dearly Peg, but you and yours got a coupla screws loose.” He chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink._

_Peggy took a pen from Howard’s desk, rolling it on the blotter before uncapping it and writing. Howard watched Peggy worked, the corner of his mouth quirked with interest. “This isn’t from Duggan.” She said quietly, re-reading her handwriting, squinting as she worked. “It’s a mess yes, but it’s not him.”_

_“Well then who’s it from?”_

_“Howard, I think your long range interceptor is working.” Peggy said with a grin. “This is a correspondence from overseas.”_

_“You sure?”_

_Peggy nodded. ”There’s an operational Hydra facility in Europe and it would appear they have some pieces of yours in their possession.”_

_Howard looked up from the sheet Peggy had been working on. “Wait. What?! How?!”_

_Peggy shrugged, folding the papers up and tucking them into her pocket. “I’ll find out.”_

_“No you wont. Have Duggan and the boys do it, that’s why they’re there, that’s why I…we…S.H.I.E.L.D pays them.” Howard said sternly, taking another swig from his drink. “Raise em up and give them the information.”_

_“You can’t be serious.” Peggy replied with an eye roll. “Howard, I can do this. It’s simple reconnaissance.”_

_“And the safe recovery of my equipment.” Howard added. “Still a no.”_

_“Yes and that. I can do that.”_

_“Well aware, Pegs but Angie’d have a cow if you left. Again. So, no. I can get the guys to take care of that.”_

_Angie. They’d been together for five years and Peggy settled into the simple life. She knew she couldn’t leave again; the last time she had, Angie didn’t speak to her for a day, sleeping in one of the guest rooms, pouting and half-heartedly glaring at her. The next morning, she woke with Angie wrapped around her, face buried in her neck muttering about how she hated how stubborn she was and that they would breakfast on the roof. “She’d understand.”_

_Howard arched an eyebrow. “You don’t get women.”_

_Peggy rolled her eyes. “Because you do.” Peggy rebutted._

_“Peggy. You’re all set here. You have a desk, responsibility, the leadership. Everything you wanted with the SSR but with better toys, more money and a handsome advisor. You don’t have to go jumping out of planes, firing guns and doing all that daring do stuff to prove yourself anymore.”_

_Peggy tapped her fingers on Howard’s desk, listening to the raindrops on the windowpane. She was already late for dinner. She’d turned into one of those distant working types that always made up the staff she worked with; she hated it. “He’s out there, Howard. Somewhere.”_

_He sighed. “And I’m using everything I’ve got to find him and bring him home, but we both agreed, we had to let it go. Look at how happy you are now. You practically glow. It’s disgusting. You keep chasing ghosts and you’re gonna wind up one of them.”_

 

            

            In between training with Natasha and keeping tabs on Peggy she was home, doing her best to keep the mansion the way Peggy left it. A long time ago, she granted Tony the luxury of completely overhauling the schematics, keeping the old world feel with modern technology. He commended her choice to keep vinyl saying “The kids all love that retro stuff” as he synced a Bluetooth stereo system to work with her devices. Thinking about all of the changes she’d made and the accommodations to keep it the same, made her feel anxious.  She listened to everything Peggy said in their sessions, the way she described the things she remembered. She still seemed to draw a blank when it came to the Russian mission, but she told her in detail about the knock down fight she had with Dottie Underwood (a story she’d never heard before) and how she kicked in a locker door when Thompson was promoted to Chief over her. (She remembered that, she had been the one to bandage her foot.)

She would go home, switch on the security and pour over old notebooks she kept, matching the information back against the database she had access to. She had to send Maria Hill a note of thanks for allowing her access into the Stark archives. Peggy remembered more than she was letting on and she was only confessing things to Angie. _That ain’t nothin’._

She rounded the corner bound for Peggy’s room. She was supposed to wait for patient request or to be cleared for interviews but she really couldn’t give a fig. She was fully aware that she was breaking every kind of protocol in the book she just memorized but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to see her again. Needed to. With each visit, there was more warmth in her, more humanity, more Peggy. She didn’t seem so cold and distant. She smiled more and maybe it was because she was one of those irritatingly optimistic people, she could’ve sworn she saw her blush whenever she called her English.

She knocked on the door and waited. The moment was eerily similar to all the times she’d knocked on Peggy’s apartment door at The Griffith. Except for the part where she was standing in a secret complex in 2015 and both of them were supposed to be withered old women. She was about to knock again when the door opened and Peggy appeared, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Patience isn’t a thing for you.”

“You’d be surprised.” Angie replied with a smirk of her own. “Mind if I come in?”

Peggy shrugged, stepped out of the way and wordlessly let Angie in.  “Still off duty?” Peggy asked, eyeing Angie’s jeans and light sweater. They were quite flattering on her. She pulled her hair up into a bun, accentuating her long neck. She was definitely an actress; always playing to a crowd.

“Guess you could say that.” Angie replied with a shrug. She had been out for a few days on the field, running drills that even made Natasha ask for a quick break. She’d passed with flying colors.

“I could, but then I’d be assuming you were on duty to begin with.” Peggy replied non-plussed.

“I was on assignment.”

Peggy’s smile returned. “Started to think you’d grown tired of me.”

“Never.” Angie replied as she sat on the leather couch across from Peggy, crossing her legs at the ankle, watching as Peggy continued to explore the room. She seemed to be examining everything down to the last detail; opening drawers they both knew she’d lived in for the last few weeks with renewed interest. She took a deep breath and said, “S.H.I.E.L.D is going to release you into my custody.”

Peggy stopped ferreting around in a drawer and turned. “Why? I’ve still no clue who _they_ are. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and with all due respect, asides from our chats, I don’t know you.”

“They have to release you to someone.”

Peggy pursed her lips. “And you’re someone.”

“Yes.”

“Someone I know but can’t remember.”

“Yes.” Angie quietly replied.

“Then why would they release me to you?” Peggy sat across from Angie, deep brown eyes burning with intensity. Angie shivered. She could see the old Peggy, trying to swim out of the depths to the surface. Fighting. As always.

“Cause I have the answers to the questions you’ve been asking here.”

Peggy cocked her head to the left. “And you think I’m just going to say yes because you’re a nice face who doesn’t treat me like an invalid?” she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You think dangling something like that under my nose will make me say yes?”

Angie couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “You lose a whole host of memories but you don’t stop being stubborn.”

“What proof can you provide me that this isn’t some elaborate Hydra trap? You come in here, look like someone I might’ve known, tell me a few things that may trigger something for me, get me to open up and spill.” She stared at Angie, her hands balled up into fists. Angie, to her credit hadn’t flinched. Those eyes were so patient, kind, waiting. “I didn’t lose memories…things are just…cloudy.” She added softly, flopping back into the armchair across from Angie. She scrubbed her face with her hands, exhaling. She chewed at her bottom lip, eyes closed as she tried to gather her thoughts again.

“I can tell you things that only you and I would know.” Anger said calmly, studying Peggy as she stared down at her palms, flexing her fingers.

Angie knew this is what Hill and Natasha warned her about. She shouldn’t push for more than she needed to, more than she was allowed to and up until the moment Peggy told her who she really was all those years ago, she was perfectly content with the way things were. She never pushed Peggy for anything she was unwilling to give; she was secretive and kept to herself but always whispered the truth to her. She told her everything and held nothing back because she trusted her.  She needed someone to listen. If she was going to get Peggy back, she was going to have to let her come to her, at her pace, whenever she was ready. Steve hadn’t lashed out, he was just confused and needed time to himself to grieve the people he’d lost. _To grieve her._ She was stubborn, she had time to prepare, she wasn’t the same woman Peggy left behind. She was capable now: she was stronger, faster, brave.

“Like what?” Peggy asked, looking up from her hands towards Angie.

“Your apartment number at The Griffith.”

“Mine?”

Angie nodded.

“I wasn’t there long and I’d lost the key.”

“So you _do_ remember something.”

Peggy cocked her head at the playful tone that crept into Angie’s voice. It felt just like they were gossiping in a room somewhere. “So what do you remember?”

“You turned me down for peach schnapps and rhubarb pie. Twice.”

“It was one time and I’d had a terrible day.” Peggy’s eyes lit up. “I remember that.” _That was the moment when she strolled off, dismissively heading back into her room after their disagreement._ She eyed Angie. _Hydra wouldn’t know that. Only she would._

“So do I. You weren’t very nice about it either.” Angie replied solemnly, her fingernails running paths along the tops of her knees.

“I apologized, at the Automat and asked if you still had it.” Peggy continued, still studying the subtle tells in Angie’s face. _Only she would know that._

Angie nodded, eagerly leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “And?”

“You did. And you got sick.”

Angie blushed. “Yes. What else do you remember?”

Peggy’s jaw tightened and she tapped her fingertips against the tops of her thighs. “I lived in Brooklyn before I moved to The Griffith. My roommate Colleen had been killed. That had been my fault.”

Angie stilled; this was new information. She had no idea who Colleen was and she swallowed hard at the jealously that bloomed in her chest. She could remember some woman from her past but couldn’t remember the woman sitting in front of her. It was bad enough that she had to keep Steve from knowing she was here, she couldn’t be jealous right now. She wished she had one of the doctors here, to see that it wasn’t poking and prodding but patience that made things happen. “What else do you remember?” Angie asked doing her best to keep the tremble out of her voice.

“3C if I needed a cup of sugar.” Peggy replied, watching Angie’s jaw drop. It wasn’t a game, it wasn’t an elaborate hoax and it wasn’t a piece of good casting; the woman in front of her was the woman she’d been dreaming of while in that chamber. The woman whose voice she’d heard reading mystery novels out loud, singing along to music and combing out her hair. Things were still floating around in her head, fragments connecting to larger pieces like icebergs in the Arctic and staring back at her was the woman she’d been in love with when she snuck off in the dead of night for some reason _._ “You’re crying.”

Angie hadn’t realized it until Peggy was across the room, wiping at her face with her thumbs. Angie froze; she had forgotten how fast Peggy was and how soft her hands were pressed against her cheeks. She held Peggy’s gaze. “You remember?”

“Yes…a few things are still a little scattered but…” She smiled, “So far…”

“You were faking.” Angie replied. “You’re a helluva actress.”

“I had a good teacher. I’m sorry, I hope you’re not cross with me.”

“Trust me English, I had enough time to be angry with you.” Every time she used it, Peggy’s cheeks would turn scarlet and she’d become an uncoordinated grinning fool.

“I’m…okay…I…never thought I’d hear you call me that again.” Peggy admitted with a sigh. “It’s still a bit of a haze unfortunately but things are coming together.”

“I joined the SSR, well, S.H.I.E.L.D. after everything. ”

“As an agent?”

“Secretary at first, just til I got my legs under me. Then I became a director of one of the divisions.” She scoffed, wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Logistics and research, can you believe it?”

“I can. You’ve got quite the brain. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who could remember Shakespeare quotes the way most people remember baseball line ups.”

Angie chuckled. “Guess I turned out to be an egghead after all.” She stared at Peggy for a moment, taking in the hollows in her eyes and the slight weight loss despite having been eating everything she could get her hands on. She looked haunted but she was going to recover. It was going to be okay. It had to be. “Everything I told you was the truth. The director wanted it to come from someone they hoped you’d recognize. They didn’t think you’d have such a hard time recalling things, so, it was recommended to have you stay here until things started coming back. I hated every second of it.”

“That’s why you started seeing me.”

“I kinda missed you.”

Peggy brushed her the knuckles of her right against Angie’s cheek. “I missed you too.” Peggy sat close to Angie on the couch. “What did I miss?”

“A lot.”

 

 

           

 

“She’s been responding to treatments, the thing that concerns me is that she still doesn’t recall the incident itself. Or other people asides from Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers.” Pete chewed on his lower lip as he held out the folder filled with notes. He felt like a five-year old calling Steve Captain America; it made him giggle. “She recalls dates, places, times but everything else, that’s not coming back as easily. She’s particularly fond of swear words.”

Angie looked through the papers, a ghost of a smile on her lips at Peggy’s fine handwriting, the elegant way she had written profanity. And her name. _She’d written my name over a dozen times._

“She’s also insisted on speaking to Director Fury. Or Howard Stark. I’m not comfortable with that given the fact that she’s eyed my jugular more than once while holding a pen.”

“You should see her with a fork.” Angie muttered, looking at the sketches on the side of the test sheets they had been giving her. It was pleasing to see the she was recalling how to draw; it was something she always encouraged. She stepped away, feeling the tension roiling from Natasha’s shoulders. Angie had learned whenever someone wanted anything, they started flexing muscles to get it. She sat down, burying herself in the notes.

“It’s not that don’t want to sign her out but as I said to Director Fury, she is a liability. She could suffer from a mental break down…potentially injure herself or even Agent Martinelli.”

Natasha took the cue and lowered her voice. “How did you not notice the drawings?”

Pete’s eyes widened. “I did, I just saw drawings and swears.” He replied, embarrassment creeping into his voice. “I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

Natasha made a mental note to move Pete over to something where his power of deduction may be of more use. Maybe janitorial staff. Or in a ditch. “She refused to see me…what’s in that file is everything we have. She has been seeing Agent Martinelli.” He cast a wary look towards Angie, who was engrossed in Peggy’s paperwork.

Natasha nodded. “Fury said she’s cleared.” Natasha replied curtly, taking the folder away from Angie and closing it. “So she’s cleared. Sign the paperwork.”

            “Agents…I don’t want to sound like I’m resisting anything Director Fury says at all but…I have to advise against this. Atleast until Agent Carter feels she’s being productive.”

            Natasha reached into his lab coat pocket, retrieved a pen and held it out to him. “Then don’t.”

 

 

_Another bullet whizzed overhead, zipping into the pipes and pinging around. She pressed her back against the concrete. She could hear Russian’s barking orders as another bullet ricocheted to her left, shards flying everywhere. She found a notch between the broken wall, lined the barrel into the crack and brought her eye to the scope. She squared up her sightlines, the rifleman in her crosshairs and fired. He fell out of his bird’s nest but she didn’t watch, she’d moved onto the next shooter and fired. He slumped back and disappeared. She slung the rifle over her shoulder and switched to her side arm. She checked the ammo before slipping out from her hiding place in a low crouch, scanning for more hostiles and a telltale green Bowler hat. She could hear Howard’s condescending tone over the ringing from the gunfire. “I told ya Peg, we can’t keep chasing ghosts.”_

_The intel had be spotty, a combination of Russian, German and from what she could decipher, Pig Latin made up of both languages. Villains wouldn’t be much fun if they were not inventive. She climbed over a large boulder and was met with a grinning Dum Dum Duggan. “Took you long enough! Missed ya.” He greeted, clapping a large hand on her shoulder. “I was just tellin the fellas that your aim is a little rusty. Thought you could use a little practice.”_

_“Your timing is shoddy as always.” Peggy replied wryly, letting Duggan pull her into a bear hug._

_He shrugged. “I’m allowed. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”_

_“Haven’t changed.”_

_“Sure.” He winked. “Whadda we got?” he circled close to Peggy peering over the small map she’d pulled out of her rucksack._

_“Welcoming committee is Hydra. The intelligence says it’s a small facility that houses our package, a few pieces of machinery of particular interest to Stark Industries and the locations of other facilities in and around Europe.”_

_“So we’re expecting a party inside?” Dum Dum asked, reloading his shotgun with a grin._

_“Quite.”_

_“What’s the package?” Happy Sawyer asked, adjusting his gear, warily eyeing the decrepit building. As always, he looked like he’d swallowed a bug. “We gonna need the cargo bob to get out of here, gotta let them know much stuff we’ll be hauling.”_

_“Person. James Barnes.”_

_“Barnes?!” Dum Dum exclaimed. “You said it was recovering Stark tech, nothing about Barnes.” He looked pained; they all thought it was bad when they lost Steve, Peggy taking it the worst of them. He shouldered his shotgun, chewing on a stump of a cigar. She had them digging around Europe looking for signs of Bucky and every time he had to send her a message back saying they’d found zilch. Peggy looked tired as she shifted from foot to foot, staring at the map before folding it and tucking it back in her bag. It had been a few years since their last mission. He loved it, Miss Union Jack and the Commandos but it was taking toll. Dum Dum had to admit, if she looked as tired as he felt, it was time to start considering retirement._

_“Two birds with one stone.” Peggy replied coolly._

_“Peggy. Talk to me. You know I love a good shoot out but this doesn’t sound like a good idea. Not over Stark’s forgotten toys.”_

_Peggy almost stomped her foot out of frustration. “There was mention of an American in the facility. Stark technology is somewhere in the facility, I just don’t know what it is.”_

_“So how do you know that Barnes is even in there? Hate to say it but it could be anybody.” Duggan asked pointedly, nodding his head up the hill towards the nearly decimated factory. He turned her away from the rest of the crew, his voice low. “You sure you got the right information?”_

_Peggy clucked her tongue. “The message is recent, I translated it myself. If it isn’t Barnes then we’re bringing back good news for some family somewhere. The longer we talk, the less useful it is. Shall we?”_

 

They walked the narrow corridor towards Director Fury’s office, Angie doing her best to not panic. “I need to tell you something before we go in there.” Natasha said, pulling Angie into a small office that doubled as an interview room.

“It’d better be the whole story.” Angie replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest as Natasha closed the door. “Kinda getting a little fussy with all these secrets.”

“It’s about the Winter Soldier program.”

Angie’s jaw went slack. “Don’t know anything about it.”

“Peggy does.”

Angie lips drew into a thin line. Natasha nodded, taking it as a signal to continue. “The night you fought, where was she going?”

“Why are you asking?”

Natasha pressed on. “Angie…”

“She wouldn’t tell me, that’s why we were fighting.”

“She had to have said something.”

“I couldn’t really hear her over the sound of her insisting that it was best that I not know.” She lapsed into a mocking English accent.

“Did you get a good look at the pages from her sessions? She drew things. Notes, numbers, coordinates, names. I put them together last night. It’s a map.”

“You got that all that from her notes? I just noticed that she was drawing.” Angie said, a brilliant smile lighting up her expression. “That’s not nothing.”

“We need a little more.” Natasha replied with a heavy sigh, leaning against the table, crossing her legs at the ankle. She always admired Angie’s optimism. “A lot more. Like what happened.”

“Why’re you telling me this now? You got a clue and Fury said I can take her home, I’m taking her _home_.” Natasha gave her a pained expression, the one you give someone that says ‘oh honey, you have no idea what you got yourself into’. The realization struck Angie like a fist to the stomach. They wanted _her_ to get the information. She blinked back tears. She was a good actress, a great actress but she wasn’t sure she could continue lie to Peggy, not while she was trying to get her back.

“You’re an agent again. You have a mission.” Natasha said, all pretense gone.

“If she’s not talking now, what makes you think I can get her to? She sees me on occasion and stares at me like she’s thinking of atleast five ways to break my arm.”

“She talks to you. She listens to you. I know you’ve been telling her what year it is. I know you’ve been giving her updates. So does Fury. This is what you wanted and this is information we need. We’ve gotta compromise. My research matches the coordinates and some of the topography to a dead Hydra facility in Russia, her last mission before she went under. We can’t find any of the transmissions that received for it but from what I can tell, it looks like they were on a rescue mission. I’ve got Maria combing through old data in Stark’s archives. We need to know what they were looking for. If she found anything on Bucky.”

“I’m sure he was a swell guy and all but why?” Angie shoved her balled hands into her blazer pockets.

“We…Steve…has reason to believe that the man who attacked him, attacked _us,_ is him. That’s why he’s been so out of touch. He thinks it’s his fault.”

 _What do I care? Everybody loses something._ “So, he thinks the guy with metal arm is Bucky?”

“To hear him tell it, he knows it is. They were thick as thieves during the war. But, you know that.” Natasha studied the way Angie stared at the corner of the room, just over her shoulder, wheels and gears clicking away as she pieced together sixty years worth of information. Angie hadn’t realized how little she knew about what Peggy did, how intricately spun the web was. She didn’t know how connected Steve, Peggy and Bucky were; their names even sounded cute together. Angie never pressed for more information even when she had every right to; she just tended her wounds, cooked, listened to her on the phone and kissed her good night. Angie was a safe harbor for her in a treacherous world. She let out a heavy sigh as Natasha’s voice drifting back to her ears. “We need to know that what Peggy saw in there, what intelligence, if any was gathered. Duggan was too distraught to write a decent report and the rest of the squad followed his lead. We know from her notes that she found the KGB operations house that…” she let the sentence drop. They both knew whom she was, who’d made her. “We just need more information and she’s got it.”

“Why would decades old information help you? You already know who it is. Just find him.” Angie’s chest ached. They were paces away from Fury’s front door and here she was, trapped in a tiny room feeling as though the walls closing in while Natasha asked her to spy on Peggy to get information for the man she hoped would’ve forgotten her. _Stupid Life Model Decoy, why couldn’t you have done a better job?_

“It’s a little more than that.” Natasha said softly. “If Hydra is dormant, there’s a good chance there are splinter cells everywhere. There’s something happening overseas that we’re going to have to take care of that. It’s something we haven’t seen before.”

“Leviathan.” She remembered the name from talking to Peggy one night while she brought her ice for her knee. She’d banged it up badly in a fight with some guy who kept muttering ‘We will rise.’

Natasha nodded gravely. “We might’ve sussed out most of the Hydra sympathizers but Leviathan is old old school. They run deep and we have no idea how they operate.”

“What makes you think it’s them? If she went into a Hydra base, why would they be connected?”

“I’m not gonna pretend to understand the way shadow organizations operate. I just know if one is made up of psychos, they’re all gonna know each other somehow.”

Angie turned her back on Natasha for a moment, gathering her thoughts as she ran through the list of reasons why she didn’t want to do this. She raked her hands through her hair, letting out a deep breath as she paced back and forth. She didn’t want to draw her Peggy back to get information for the people who were going to keep her locked up once they had it. Maybe Howard had been right; she wasn’t cut out for this life. She just wanted Peggy to herself. She’d moved too many mountains to make it happen and the biggest one just moved back into her line of sight. She was gonna move that one too. _Rope them in and hit em._ She rubbed her palms together as she thought, turning back to face Natasha, a brave smile on her face. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

 

 

_“Where are you going now?” Angie asked, her arms folded across her chest as she watched Peggy cramming clothes into her rucksack._

_Peggy looked up, sadness in her eyes. “Something came up today that I have to address.” She said, avoiding Angie’s gaze. She hated this part. She always did. Were it just a normal task, a regular day, she would leave for work and it would be fine because she was coming home. There would be no arguments, just longer and longer kisses in the foyer to entice Peggy into coming home early. It always worked. She spent less time in the office and more time at home. This was going to take a few days, she was probably going to come back worse for the wear and she knew Angie would complain, say a lot of “I told you so’s” and take care of her anyway. She just couldn’t look at her right now. She didn’t want the image of her tear streaked face in her mind when she boarded the plane, landed behind enemy lines and went to work. She checked the drawer on her side of the bed, pulling out a small leather wallet. She opened it and checked on the photo of Angie she always carried around when she left for missions. She was smiling in that picture. She tucked it into her jacket pocket, aware that Angie was watching her intently._

_“Something. What’s something? Peg? C’mon you said you wouldn’t do this again.” Angie pleaded, following Peggy into the master bathroom as she grabbed a toothbrush. “You said you were done.” Peggy was stopped up in the doorway, Angie’s body blocking the way out. She tried to avoid Angie’s gaze, fiery and determined despite her eyes being glassy with tears. “You and Howard built out that alphabet soup of a place so you wouldn’t have to go out on the field anymore. What’s so important that you can’t just stay put?”_

_Peggy’s shoulders sagged, her head bowed as she thought of a good enough reason for Angie. “It’s best that you not know.” She defaulted. Angie took a step back from the doorframe, giving Peggy a narrow escape lane, which she took and made a beeline for the bed. She tossed in her toothbrush and closed her bag. “I’ll be back before you know it.”_

_Angie stormed out of the room. A moment later she heard one of the many the guest room’s door slam shut._

_She could be so dramatic._

  

The corridor seemed to get longer and longer as they walked, Angie’s heart rattling in her chest as she kept up with Natasha’s long strides. “And he said I can take her home.”

“As long as her paperwork and yours were set, yes.”

            Angie slowed her stride, pulled over and took a deep breath. “What if he says no?”

            “After what I told you? What we need? If he says no, I’ll check him for a head injury.”

            “He can change his mind, head injury or no. He could find some other reason…”

“You’re certified, Carter is cleared...”

“Barely.”

            “Wow.”

“I mean, I can use a gun and I can fight but…”

“Listen,” Natasha held up her hand, cutting off any further discussion. “you argued your way into this and you’ve been around here longer than I ‘ve been alive, so, quit it with the nerves. You were an actress, right? You had to do way weirder things than convincing my boss to let you take your girlfriend home.”

Angie bristled. “Theater isn’t that weird…”

“That’s what you take out of my pep talk?” Natasha blurted out in disbelief as she waved towards Fury’s new secretary. “He’s expecting us.” She stated as they brushed by and pushed her way into the office.

Fury held up a finger. “I understand that. I’ll have my team out there sir.”

“Sounds fun.” Natasha replied, holding out the folder towards Nick with a smirk. “Do I pack sunscreen or a snow suit?”

“A few things are rattling loose overseas. We may need to address that sooner rather than later.” He flipped open the folder, making a face. “I can’t believe Hydra knocked us into the Stone Age with paperwork.” He lamented as he clicked a pen, signed off on the bottom sheets and closed folder again.

“Well, when you think about it, it’s preferable over the tablets, I mean, anybody with a basic understanding of wifi could easily hack into…nevermind.” Angie swallowed the rest of her sentence. That had been exactly what put them into what Fury lovingly called the Stone Age in the first place.

“Has she been briefed?” Fury pointedly asked Natasha, his demeanor cool and authoritative. Angie envied how easily Natasha could speak to him without bursting into tears.

“Yes.” Natasha replied.

He turned his gaze towards Angie. “Agent Martinelli. I expect detailed _reports_ regarding Agent Carter on my desk weekly. You’re to both check in and personally deliver said _paperwork_. Agent Carter is to continue receiving medical treatment here and if it becomes apparent that things aren’t going favorably, you’re to come here directly. Clear?” he added extra emphasis to paperwork.

“Yes sir. I have some concessions.” Angie said, steeling her jaw and emulating the way Natasha and Hill had always addressed Director Fury.  

Fury sighed. “Such as.”

“I don’t want her to know about Captain Rogers. Not yet. She’s still adjusting and I don’t think that knowing something like that will help in recovery.” Angie said, holding Fury’s steely one-eyed gaze. “If the information is helpful I’ll report it to her. Until then, I’m only focusing on the task I’ve been given.”

 Fury eyed Natasha, who gave him a half-hearted shrug before looking back towards Angie. He stood up. “Good luck, Agent. Dismissed.”


	5. In The Shadows

5

 

_“Thought you said there’d be Stark Tech here.” Duggan groused, kicking over an empty box. “Looks like if it was here, it’s high tailed it with the Krauts and Ruskies.” He chewed hard on his cigar, shouldering his rifle, watching Peggy digging through discarded papers. “Pegs, I think this is a dead end.”_

_Peggy rolled her eyes, letting out a shallow breath. “The message was clear, there was Stark tech in here…”_

_“Cause your friend says so, or cause there was?” He turned, nodded for Pinky and Happy to clear the next room, leaving the two of them alone. “Peggy. You gotta come clean with me on this, what’s going on?”_

_She stared at the corner, at an overturned box filled with partially burned papers, bits of broken glass. Peggy pulled the box closer, dumping out the contents and chuckling to herself. It was a salvageable piece of blueprint; a stasis chamber. She held the large sheet out for Duggan to see. “What’s going on is that they’re still trying to replicate Project Rebirth and they’re doing it with whomever they find.”_

_Duggan took the sheet, carefully examining the work. “So?”_

_Peggy gave him a look of disappointment. “Do you remember what they did to Rogers?” He nodded, his brow furrowed as he read tried to make heads or tails of the information in his hand; he didn’t care for this egghead mess in his hands. “The day it happened, the lab was attacked. Most of the data, research, the machine itself was damaged. Howard, Phillips and I suspected a mole loyal to Hydra were involved. Steve actually tracked the man responsible down but he took a cyanide pill before any information was gathered. This,” she tapped the sheet. “Means that someone managed to get more information than we thought and I believe they were working on in while we were in Germany.”_

_“I’m not following.”_

_“The night you were rescued, Steve was after James. When he found him, he was in a lab similar to this one, undergoing some kind of treatment.” She took the sheet, folded it and packed it into her bag. “I think they’re trying to do something to James. Or anyone they can find to replicate that experiment.”_

_Duggan shook his head in disbelief, looking around the room with new eyes. “So you want to find whatever is left and see how far they’ve gotten. See if he was here. Or somebody.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Why do I have the feeling Howard isn’t too pleased you’re here?”_

_“You have no idea.”_

 

_Every room had been cleared but somehow they were still surrounded. Peggy got an earful from Dum Dum as they moved through lab after lab, all of them empty, paperwork burned and equipment gone. They managed to find a few pieces of machinery Peggy recognized from Howard’s manifest, crammed them into Happy’s pack and continued moving. As they ascended from the sublevel, men seemed to pour out of the metalwork, firing wildly as they moved through the upper most part of the facility. Dum Dum detonated the lab and as they ran, it was raining bullets and grenades._

_They were pinned down behind some tumbled beams, bullets raining down from overhead. Peggy nudged Duggan with her left elbow, giving him a ‘tell me you brought more than just dynamite’ look. He grinned, clapped Pinky’s shoulder and gave him thumbs up. Pinky pushed away from their hiding place, tossing a grenade up into the catwalk and sliding back up against the wall. The first wave was cleared._

_He winked, adjusting the pack on his back. “We gotta move!”_

_They sprinted for the staircase, another wave of opposition coming towards them. They continued firing back, Peggy checking her watch as she sprinted up the dilapidated stairs. “What’d you set that detonator for?!”_

_“Five minutes!”_

_They’d already lost three. She needed to spend time with Duggan on proper timer technique. They moved as a group, trying to not hit each other as they funneled into the narrow corridor._

_Peggy took a left while the rest took a right. She had no time to raise them on the radio, cursing under her breath when she spotted two men carrying a third man between them, running down the smoky corridor, yelling in Russian. “Bollocks.” Checking her Walther, she sprinted down the hall after them, tugging on her respirator as she ran. The building was filling with smoke as the fire below began to spread._

_The ground beneath her shifted, an explosion rocking the foundation. She was tossed forward, nearly losing grip on her gun as she skidded across the crumbling concrete. Pushing up, she felt something warm oozing down her forehead, blinked and realized she was bleeding. Cursing, she pushed on, running towards the door at the end of the corridor flames licking at her boot heels as she shoved it open and slammed it shut, the heat rushing at the window._

* * *

 

            _She’s gonna know. She’s gonna something's up and I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together if she does. I can’t fight her. She’s strong. Sure, I’ve done a few things but I’m not a natural the way Peggy is. I couldn’t hurt her. She wouldn’t hurt me. So what? We’d stand there, all angry and tense staring at each other until the cavalry arrives? What if they send him? What if they think that I did a lousy job and they just come in and take her? I’d fight then. Let them get me on the ropes and then I’d take em out._

Angie was so lost in her own thoughts, she almost missed what Natasha was telling her. “You have me and Clint on speed dial if you need us.” Natasha said, as Angie packed her bag. She was clearing out her locker for laundry, carefully packing everything. The day she’d been waiting for was finally here; they were going to let her take Peggy home. “Maybe Hill will answer if you shoot her a text.”

“Why? You’re probably just going to be lurking across the street anyway.” Angie grinned, zipping up her bag. “You know I hate bugging Maria…”

“When you’ve got pizza, it’d be nice to be invited in for a slice.” Natasha grinned. “Besides, we won’t always be lurking. There’s rumbling that things are going down soon so we may just leave you out on your own.”

“The whole team?” she couldn’t bring herself to say his name.

She nodded grimly. “I know that tone of his.”

“Thank you.” Angie replied, zipping her bag up and hefting it onto her shoulder. “For everything.”

“Don’t thank me. You did the work.” Natasha pushed off the locker door she was leaning on, tucking her hands into the pockets of her blazer. “If you hadn’t helped us figure out how to ease Steve into the world, we would’ve had the same problem. It’s still not easy for him you know.”

“I know.”

“It’ll be easier because she’s got you. She’s just adjusting and it’s all going to come back. You’ll see.”

Angie nodded absently, adjusting her blazer. “Sure but she has no idea he’s alive.”

 

* * *

 

 

Angie was grateful that their car ride had been uneventful and the windows tinted to the point of being nearly useless. She didn’t complain when she climbed into the back of the large black Suburban, the leather creaking underneath her as she shifted in the seat. Angie slid in alongside wordlessly, a tight smile on her face. She kept an eye on Peggy as she stared out of the window, trying her best to see outside. The driver took the scenic route to head back into the city. Peggy pressed closer to the window, staring up at the buildings as the car wound it’s way up towards their neighborhood. Her forehead was furrowed as traffic went by, doing her best to follow everything going on. It felt like the city had gotten faster since she’d been gone.

“Is it strange?” Angie asked, her left hand sliding across the seat towards Peggy’s right where it rested. She held it tentatively, the contact feeling like electricity running through her.

“Not at all…were the buildings always this tall?”

“Yeah. They’ve gotten taller too. You wouldn’t even recognize Times Square.” Angie replied sadly.

Peggy let out a heavy sigh, turning her attention away from the window back to Angie, her eyes landing on their hands, a sad smile crossing her lips.

“We’ll take it one thing at a time.” Angie nodded as the car pulled up to the curb. “First thing’s first. Welcome home.”

 -----------------------------------------

Angie’s heart slammed against her ribs as she slipped the key into the lock and time slowed down. She remembered when Mr. Jarvis brought them into the mansion in the first place and she imagined that the rush she was feeling must’ve been the same sense of joy Peggy felt when he told them that the place was theirs for as long as they needed it. She let Peggy enter first, closing and locking the door, pressing the security code in for safety. She watched Peggy as she walked, taking tentative steps, head tilting up and around, taking in the foyer. She turned and opened the double doors into the receiving room, her jaw dropping.

“It looks the same...”

Angie gave a half shrug, dropping the keys into her back pocket and joining Peggy in the room. “Whatever neo-classical whatsit that Howard kept it in. Seemed a waste to just come in with a can of paint and start over considerin’.”

Peggy chuckled. “That’s impressive. I couldn’t remember whatever style it was…so, good on you.”

“Before or after gettin’ thawed?” Angie teased, a huge smile on her face. Peggy gave a non-committal shrug, reaching out to touch the hardwood walls, staring up at the intricate ceiling, chewing on her bottom lip. She remembered the room, remembered coming in with Mr. Jarvis. She remembered their first night in the mansion. “I can give you a tour…I’ve got a room picked out for you too…” Angie said, sadness creeping into her voice. Just because she was back didn’t mean she was _back._ Peggy nodded, following Angie as she lead the way to the bedroom adjacent to the one they’d shared.

She watched the almost reverent way Angie unpacked her things, placing them into their respective drawers. She was still seeing things as though she was looking at a negative exposure; she could see Angie in her uniform and then Angie in her jeans and blazer. It felt like she was watching two movies at once.

            “Is that my blazer?” she asked quietly as Angie unfolded a silk top and hung it up in the closet.

“Yeah.” Angie replied, glancing over her shoulder with a lopsided smile. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”

            “I only recognize it because of the patch job in the shoulder.”

Angie tugged at it the shoulder in question, looking at the repair in the fabric. “When you were shot…” Peggy had taken care of the stitching when she was released from the hospital. Angie had a fit.

            “One of the times…” Peggy replied, her expression darkening as she studied her palms again. “It looks lovely on you.”

            Angie blushed. “You can have it back, I was keeping it warm for ya.” She replied as she started to shrug it off.

“No, no, keep it. I have more.” A bashful smile crossed her face. “Thank you.”

“For?” Angie asked, facing Peggy and hanging the bag on a hook inside the closet; it was Peggy’s old rucksack.

“Being patient.”

“Shucks, English, you know how to flatter a girl.” She closed the closet door and stood with her hands clasped in front of her, suddenly feeling shy.  “You hungry? I got a recipe I’ve been dyin to try that’s gonna knock your socks off.”

 

* * *

 

“You don’t trust it do you?” Natasha asked, checking under her fingernails for dirt. She returned to Fury’s office carrying two Styrofoam coffee cups filled with tea and a muffin. She wasn’t sucking up, but she was concerned by the way he kept pacing after Angie left. He had a tendency to pace and brood when he was anxious; when he was anxious, he was grumpy. Maybe she was sucking up.

            “Whatever gave you that impression?” Fury asked flatly, reclining in his chair, pulling the lid off his cup and watching the steam rise. “Did you know about that condition?”

            “No. Just as surprised as you.” She started examining her fingers, avoiding Fury’s gaze. “We’re good at keeping secrets. The outside world thinks you’re dead. Everyone wants to know what make’s Thor’s hair so shiny. Carter doesn’t know you or what’s happened in the last 60 years, dropping that she isn’t the only fossil on the block is probably not on Angie’s itinerary. Atleast not until she gets her back.”

            “Yes but the ones who know that I’m not are standing here and cavorting around in Stark Tower…”

“I like that. _Cavorting._ ” Natasha replied, her eyebrows wiggling playfully. “That word a day calendar is working wonders for you.” Fury glared at her. “She’s well aware of what’s at stake. She won’t tell her anything she doesn’t want Peggy to know or anything that can compromise her mission. She doesn’t want her to know Steve’s alive, we get the information and the secret is safe.”

            “That could take some time.”

            “We connected the map to Russia, we can go over there, poke around see what’s there, maybe something else pops up in the mean time.” Natasha offered with shrug. “She might even paint us a landscape of the place.”

“And when they come for visits?” He took a sip of his tea, watching Natasha carefully. “What happens then?”

Natasha tilted her head to the side, trying to keep the sarcasm in her tone to a minimum. “It’s called a schedule. They won’t be in the same place at the same time.”

            “You guaranteeing that?” Fury asked sarcastically, clearly not trying to monitor his tone.

Natasha nodded. “Angie’s a stickler for schedules. She also knows that he comes by to test out Stark’s new toys. He’s like clockwork. She’s pretty much memorized his schedule so she’ll know not to come in on a day he’ll be here. Speaking of, have you seen what he designed for me…? Cause Clint keeps saying it looks like something out of a video game…”

            Fury rolled his eye, ignoring her fashion question. “Hazards of military training and just being old enough to value time. That’s not enough to convince me, Romanov.”

“They won’t overlap.” Natasha reassured him, dropping her hands to the armrest, idly picking the threads she found. “We need Peggy to talk and the only one she’ll talk to is Angie.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to backfire in all of this. “Martinelli is a wealth of knowledge, so is Carter. The two of them could bring a whole world of hurt on us.”

Natasha nodded. “That’s not who either of them are.”

Fury raised a curious eyebrow. “Oh, and how do you know this?”

Natasha pursed her lips. “I read Carter’s file.”

“It was sealed.”

“Oh was it?” she checked her fingernails again. “Must’ve found a hardcopy…”

Fury looked like he ate a particularly bad meal, his mouth soured. “I’m not even gonna ask how you pulled that off. “ he replied sourly. “What did you read?”

“SSR agent, served during World War II, worked with Steve, friend of Howard Stark, can do 107 one armed push ups. Exemplary field operative; recovered something called Zodiac on her own, mission parameters called for five agents. Sidelined by ’46 by the SSR until Stark contacted her for some double agent duty to clear his name. Daniel Sousa, another agent at the time, petitioned for Chief Jack Thompson to be replaced by her, numerous times. She kept turning down offers for interviews. Stark gets fed up and starts S.H.I.E.L.D with her in the drivers seat. Their first hire is some big man named Woodrow McCord. I looked for him in the archives and didn’t find much. They draft the Commandos and work as mercenaries for the most part. She went out on the field when necessary, completing drop missions up until the one that put her out by ‘53.” Natasha ticked off, showing off her photographic memory. “She _was_ S.H.I.E.L.D. She didn’t ask for it, Howard gave it to her. It isn’t in Carter’s nature to retaliate is my point.”

“I’m impressed.” He sounded more annoyed than impressed. “Doesn’t do anything for Martinelli.”

“It does because she’s not built to take anything down. She can, she just doesn’t use that power. She wouldn’t.” _Peggy wouldn’t let her and she would stop herself._

“She’s seen things.”

“We all have. Aliens in the sky remember?”

Fury tapped his pen on top of his blotter, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “I don’t think it bares repeating but not a word of this to anyone else.”

“Because I’m such a gossip.”

“You’ve been trying to play cupid for the guy.” Fury deadpanned.

“Oh what? Who said that? Did he say that?” Natasha asked defensively.

“It’s a delicate balance. We need that information and we need Rogers to lead the charge. It’s getting dangerous out there. There can be no distractions, everything we can get in our favor, we need it.”

“Got it. No distractions.”

 

 

           

            _A pair of strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders, throwing her into the snow. She rolled with the momentum; grateful that she let Howard talk her into wearing the new material he’d designed that allowed for more flexibility, ending in a crouch. She reached for her gun and let out a grunt when she spotted it far to the right of her position. The man was tall, broad shouldered and imposing, he cracked his neck as he took two big strides towards her._

_She hit him square in the face with a large stone._

_He tumbled backwards, dazed as she ran for her gun, grabbing it and immediately firing at him. He was hit in the chest, stumbling backwards before hitting the ground. Reloading, she quickly checked the area for more assailants and raised Dum Dum on the radio. “Please tell me you’re on the other side of this building and not under it.” She said, standing up and watching the rest of the facility going up in flames, explosions rocking the base. She looked up towards the mountains, hoping to avoid a landslide._

_“Guess I over did it on the dynamite huh? We’re clear. Where the hell’d you wind up?” Dum Dum replied, the occasional rat-a-tat from a gun crackling over the radio. “Thought we agreed to stay together.”_

_“Made a wrong turn.” She replied grimly, eyes scanning the woods. She could hear the gunfire but the echo made it nearly impossible to track where it was coming from._

_“Getting rusty there.” Dum Dum remarked. “All that desk work ruining your sense of direction?”_

_“Send a flare up and I’ll find you.” She grumbled. She was about to take the moment to check her rifle when an arm looped around her throat._

_She fired over her shoulder, the muzzle fire near her ear, killing the attacker point blank. He slumped backwards, landing with a thud on the rocky terrain. She grit her teeth, covering her right ear with her right hand, the high pitch whine deafening as she turned to stare at who tried to get the jump her. He was clad in all black, a Hydra insignia on his chest and a Y shaped scar on his throat. “Duggan, check the men you take out for scars on their throats.” She radioed, opening his collar wider. Howard was going to have a fit._

_“What for?”_

_“I believe that we may be dealing with a little more than just Hydra up here.” She looked up scanning the tree line for movement. “How far out until extraction?”_

_“We’ve got some time,” a spray of gunfire, “But I know how much you like the window seat.”_

_“Bollocks…” she had move. “En route!”_

_“Roger that. Flare going up.”_

_She waited a moment, reloading the rifle and watching the sky. It was risky but she couldn’t run around blind in the woods either. She saw the bright red glare coming from the South side of the building, closest to where they had entered. She’d managed to traverse the entire facility and ended up on the northeastern side. “Brilliant.” She didn’t have much time to clear the building either; the sun was coming up and she was certain that a distress signal had been sent; re-enforcements would arrive and they’d have to fight their way to the extraction point. Dum Dum was right; she did love the window seat. She turned back to the man, turning out his pockets and pouches for ammunition and supplies, stuffing them into her rucksack and immediately heading south._


	6. Who We Are

6

 

            Peggy ate slowly, savoring every morsel as Angie fussed around the kitchen, looking for a plate for dessert. She sat still, chewing, enjoying the way the ravioli danced on her pallet, the flavors blending together in a symphony, coming together and falling apart. She flexed her bare toes under her chair as she helped herself to another forkful; Angie had been right about the recipe knocking her socks off.

            “You doin’ alright over there?” Angie asked, unboxing a cheesecake she’d picked up earlier in the week, hoping to drown her sorrows in sugar; she was grateful that it’s initial purpose changed to celebration.

            “Mmmhmmm, yuth fank you…” Peggy replied around a mouthful of ravioli. She gave an apologetic grin, covering her mouth with a napkin before repeating with a little more grace. “Yes, thank you.”

            “You’re allowed to forget some manners…” Angie replied, a small smile on her face, her right hand resting softly on Peggy’s right shoulder. “Got any room for dessert?”

            Peggy nodded. “Just give me a moment…that was delicious.”

“Nah, it’s alright. You’ve just been living on sandwiches for the last month…” She poured out more water for Peggy, chuckling to herself. “Just like old times…”

            “What is?” Peggy asked, looking up from the glass of water Angie finished pouring.

            “Just thinkin’ it’s a lot like our time at the Automat, that’s all.” Angie replied with a simple shrug, returning the water jug to the refrigerator. She returned to her seat at the table, a tight-lipped smile pinning her cheeks up. “You inhale everything on the plate, tell me it was good, debate dessert knowing you’re gonna say yes then you stare at me for a good fifteen minutes pretending you’re not.”

            Peggy couldn’t help the way her mouth quirked as she took a sip of water. “Am I that transparent…?”

            “I’m at the advantage where I know ya…” Angie replied, raising her left hand tentatively, her fingertips brushing against Peggy’s knuckles softly. She had mentally prepared herself for Peggy to recoil and when she didn’t, she felt her heart flutter in her chest. “Am I wrong?”

            Peggy blushed, ducking her head and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “No…” she looked at Angie through her lashes. “What kind of dessert do you have?”

            “Strawberry cheesecake.” Angie grinned, pushing away from the table to get the cheesecake.

            “How decadent…” Peggy chuckled, folding her napkin on the table and collecting her dishes to bring to the sink.

            “I woulda taken care of that, Pegs…” Angie chided as she plated a slice and grabbed two forks.

            “Nonsense. I needed to make sure my legs still functioned after all that…” Peggy said with a dismissive shrug, putting the plates in the sink and moving to turn on the tap.

            “Hey, I’ll worry about that, you go sit and split this with me.” Angie said, adding a generous twist of whipped cream and returning to the table. “C’mere.”

            Peggy dried her hands and returned to her seat, taking the fork offered to her. She cut into the slice first, a large piece of strawberry topping the velvety cake. Angie couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as she watched Peggy’s eyes roll back in appreciation. “I didn’t think anything could be this good…” Peggy said around a mouthful of pastry.

            “Better than the Automat, right?” Angie asked, helping herself.

“I didn’t mind the rhubarb.”

“This is better than rhubarb.” Angie deadpanned.

“Thank you…”

“Again with the thankin’…” Angie reached over with her free hand, holding Peggy’s tightly. “I should be thankin’ you.” She whispered, the cheesecake forgotten, eyes welling with tears. “You came back.”

Peggy’s eyes dropped to their hands. “I promised I would. I’m a woman of my word.”

 

 

            _Peggy held her breath as she knocked on the door, lips pursed in disapproval. This was not the way she wanted to do this; not when this was a very dangerous mission she was going on and the last thing she wanted was to be yelling through a solid oak door. “Angie, open the door, please.” She waited, her ear pressed to the door in the hopes of hearing movement. They both knew she was strong enough to kick it in but that would damage the wood and was entirely too dramatic. “Angie.” She said again, pleadingly. “I don’t want to fight about this. You know what it is that I do, what my responsibilities are. This is a matter that I need to address personally.” She waited, listening for Angie. “This is the last time I leave to deal with S.H.I.E.L.D business. The next time I leave it will be with you on a much deserved vacation, somewhere warm and lovely...I’m sure Howard has a dozen villas to choose from…” The doorknob twisted and the door opened a crack, Angie’s tearstained face appearing in the doorway._

_“You always promise. You promise you’ll stop, promise you’ll stay, promise it’s the last time. You’re gone longer an’ longer an’ I can’t take it. Do you know how scared I get when you’re gone? How big that bed is? I know who you are Peg and I love you for it but I wish you’d stop trying to save everyone by puttin’ yourself in danger.”_

_Peggy tried to wedge herself in the door, surprised by how strong Angie was. “Angie…”_

_“I’ll see you when you get back.” Angie replied, tilting her head up, swallowing a lump forming in her throat. “Be careful.” She closed the door again, letting the tears fall as she pressed her back to the door, covering her mouth to stifle the sob._

_“I love you.” Peggy whispered, pressing her right hand against the door and heading towards the room to get her bag. She stopped in the study, pulling out a pen and fresh paper. She sat for a moment, bathed in just the lamplight and wrote._

_‘Angie,_

_I don’t want to leave anymore than you want me to go. I’ve grown tired and frankly I’m getting a little long in the tooth to be running off in the middle of the night into the same old danger. This is something that I have to do for someone who I owe a great debt to. If succeeding in this mission is what ends everything with that part of my life, it is something that must be done. I have always wanted this, the simplicity of our lives never knowing if it was something that I deserved; I had grown accustomed to living the rest of my days alone. It was safer that way, given my career; I was fully prepared to dedicate my life to the greater good. Until there was you. I told myself that I couldn’t risk it, shouldn’t risk it and now, I cannot imagine my life without you. There is no greater good than you._

_I will explain when I get back. I promise my love._

_Yours always.'_

 

 

 

_She kissed the paper, folded it and and left it on the nightstand, tears threatening to spill as she stepped out of the bedroom, looked at the closed bedroom door one last time and left._

  

            Sam was antsy; his left foot continued to tap, the tapping turning to shaking and finally he’d pace before returning to his position on the roof, waiting for Steve’s signal. He wanted to raise him on the comm but worried he was in the middle of something and would interrupt whatever it was. He let out a heavy sigh, rolling his shoulders and leaning on his palms, staring at the building Steve was in.

            “For a man with a code name like Falcon, you’re really irritable…” Steve’s voice came in through the comm nestled in Sam’s right ear.

“Anybody tell you you’re a creepy old man?” Sam quipped, tapping his goggles to zoom into the building, scanning the windows.

“Not recently.”

“Find anything?”

“Cleaned out.” Steve replied, disappointment coloring his tone. “Whatever was here is gone.”

“Well, hate to tell you, but that sounds a lot like most of Detroit buddy.” Sam said, frowning as he brought his sightline down towards street level. It was too quiet. “Tell me again why I couldn’t run recon with you? Thought you liked hanging out with me.”

“I need your eyes outside.”

“Pshh, you gonna compliment me like that atleast buy me dinner…”

Steve chuckled. “Barton has better vision. Hang on.” The comm went silent and Sam continued to scan the street. It was still too silent, birds weren’t even singing. They were on a derelict side of town, surrounded by boarded up factories and broken chain link fences. Fury’s hit list had this building listed as a Hydra encampment, but from what either of them could tell, nothing but mold still took up residence there. A few start up companies moved in a few blocks south but that entrepreneurial spirit didn’t reach this part of town. “I think there’s something here.”

Sam snapped his attention from the street back towards the building; he switched to infrared, scanning for Steve’s location. “What’d you find?”

“I dunno…”

“Well, Stark didn’t give me x-ray vision for these specs so you’re gonna have to describe it.”

“It’s a blue print.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “That’s it? I’m holding my breath for a blueprint?”

“It’s a schematic to build something…I’m taking it.”

“Please do, Indiana Jones…” he replied sarcastically.  

“I actually liked that movie…” Steve replied picking his way through the rest of the room towards the decrepit stairs he’d climbed. “Wasn’t too crazy about Crystal Skull.”

“Everyone says that.” Sam watched Steve’s heat signature as he descended the stairs. “You’re all clear by the way…”

“Thanks.”

He rolled his eyes again, switching the power off and pocketing his goggles. He adjusted his hoodie, covering up his jet pack before he headed down the nearly rusted out fire escape.

He missed the figure four rooftops over.

 

They met on the street, climbed into the rental car and drove off, Sam in the drivers seat while Steve rode in the passenger seat. He opened up his jacket, pulling the blueprint out of the inner pocket. He unfolded it gingerly, rotating it, squinting as he tried to make it out. Sam glanced over, lips pursed as he tried to see it. “We came all the way to Detroit to find a scrap of paper in what was supposed to be some Hydra facility. Why would they have that? That’s older than me. Probably you too.”

Steve shot Sam a dirty look. “Odds are Hydra used old plans scanned them and updated them. Found a few Ethernet cables around.”

“You know what an Ethernet cable is?” Sam asked in surprise.

“You and Natasha aren’t allowed to talk to each other.” Steve replied dryly. “We’re gonna need to head back to New York. Compare this to anything we may have in the archives…”

“Think Stark can look at it?”

Steve shrugged. “Haven’t really been talking to him.”

“Uh oh. You mad I got the goggles…?”

“No. He has access to the things that can get S.H.I.E.L.D back up and running properly but he isn’t being much of a team player.”

Sam nodded. He didn’t know Tony well enough to judge him on how he should be spending his time and money. He’d taken a look at his jet pack, made adjustments and alterations, grinned and returned it to him with an updated pair of flight goggles. On a test drive, he’d broken the sound barrier. “There’s a lot to think about. You heard Fury. We’re basically on our own. The Avengers are one thing, he’s into that but he doesn’t owe any allegiance to S.H.I.E.L.D. even if he’s contributed to it. What do I know? I’m just a pair of eyes.”

Steve nodded, staring at the blueprint in his hands. The design was faded, as if it had been exposed to the elements after having been drawn and redrawn over and over again. “You’re a good man.” he said, carefully folding the blueprint and tucking it back into his pocket. “That’s important.”

“Thanks.” Sam replied sheepishly. They bumped over decommissioned railroad tracks, the city looming in the distance. Sam gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white for a moment before he spoke. “You still think he’s out there?”

Steve was lost in thought, staring out of his window, dead building after dead building zooming by. “Could’ve killed me. Could’ve left me there. He dragged me out of the water.” He sighed heavily. “He’s out there. He’s running.”

“If he’s still Hydra, why haven’t they shown up to find him?”

“I dunno. Maybe they’re doing their cloak and dagger thing. Maybe they think he went down with the ship. As far as they’re concerned, we’re dead.”

“How’d he get like that…?”

Steve shrugged. “They did something to him. I looked right at him, Sam. It’s still _him_ somewhere in there. Maybe he’s not even looking for Hydra. Maybe he’s looking for something else.”

“Like what? He was pretty dead set on getting rid of all of us on the highway…”

“When I woke up, I didn’t react the best way. I panicked, I ran. I ran right into the middle of Times Square only, it wasn’t the one I’d known, it was something completely different…” he tapped his fingers along the windowsill, staring out of the windshield, watching as traffic began to emerge around them. “Fury had to talk me down. He told me what happened to me. He told me that everyone I knew was either dead or missing and presumed dead. Seventy years go by and I missed it all. I had S.H.I.E.L.D and The Avengers to get me through it. He doesn’t have anyone to walk him through this and I’m pretty sure they didn’t tell him anything. He’s out there and we have to find him.”

“And do what?”

“Bring him back.”

 

 

 

            “I kept that letter you know.” Angie whispered, distracting herself with the cheesecake, raking the tines into the piece before taking a piece and eating. “I read it every single day. Committed it to memory.” She licked at the tines. “I was so mad at you, y’know. I heard the door close and I fell over crying. Cried myself to sleep.” Peggy studied Angie’s profile, the way she stared at the cheesecake in deep fascination while she spoke. “When I went into the bedroom, I found it. Cried all over again. Had no idea that I had that many tears, y’know? I mean, I can stage cry, but real honest to God everything hurts cry?” She shook her head, helping herself to another piece of the cheesecake. “I was so broken up…”

            “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not tellin’ you for you to be sorry, Peggy. I know you are…” she gave Peggy a watery smile. “I’m tellin’ you ‘cause you said when you got back, you’d explain everything…” She took another bite. “C’mon English…you’re missin’ out.” Peggy stuck her fork into the cake surreptitiously. “I know you probably don’t remember much of anything and I’ve never asked...”

            “It was for Steve.” Peggy replied quietly, seeing the hurt in Angie’s eyes. He was always something of a ghost between them. She’d told her about having the last vial of his blood, having tossed it into the East River the night they moved into the mansion. She knew it bothered Angie when she was wrapped up in S.H.I.E.L.D business; while Angie suspected it was the only thing she had to keep his memory alive. “I went out to find someone. James Barnes.”

            “Who’s James Barnes?” Angie asked, already knowing the answer to the question. She’d dug deep into classified S.S.R and later S.H.I.E.L.D archives looking for everything she could find. She’d helped build the Captain America museum, fought to keep Peggy’s involvement in the war. She couldn’t bring herself to attend the dedication ceremony, opting to stay in the hospital with Peggy. Fury said it was lovely.

            “James Barnes served with Steve during the War. There was an accident on a train. He was lost. He was classified as M.I.A then K.I.A until reports showed otherwise.” Peggy replied, almost mechanically. “We intercepted an encrypted communication that showed an operational enemy base in Russia. My cohorts were already overseas…”

            “Why didn’t you just send them…?” Angie asked, cheesecake forgotten, her gaze burning into Peggy’s. “You had them out there for a reason right?”

            Peggy swallowed, her eyes losing focus for a moment as she pushed back in her chair. “They…they wanted to be out there.” She blinked rapidly for a moment before closing her eyes tightly, breathing heavily.

            “Peggy, what’s wrong?” Angie asked, reaching for Peggy’s clenched right hand, wrapping it with her own.

“They…we…found a blueprint…design…Stark Industries…” she grit out in a shuttered breath. “I…”

            “Peggy, Peggy, breathe…” Angie coaxed, pushing up from her seat and pulling Peggy into her arms. “It’s okay, forget I asked, forget I asked, you’re safe, you’re home…stay with me…” Peggy’s body was tense, her breathing shallow despite her raging heart. She let herself be held, listening to Angie’s voice, her hands wrapping around Angie’s waist and pulling her closer. They stood in the kitchen, tangled around each other, dessert and the topic forgotten. “I gotcha, English…I gotcha.”

 

            Peggy allowed herself to be brought into her bedroom. She climbed under the covers and bunched up the pillow. “I’ll be right next door.” Angie said, doing her best to keep the disappointment from creeping into her voice. She hoped Peggy would’ve asked her to come to bed with her. Peggy nodded, her gaze distant as she curled into the pillow, shutting her eyes. Angie kept the door ajar as she crossed into the study. She scrubbed at her face with her hands. She couldn’t do this. _How can I do this when I just want her to get better first?_ She sighed and flopped into her chair, reaching for the phone and dialing Natasha.

            “I can be there in twenty…” Natasha answered, the sound of fabric rustling over the phone.

“No no…I…” Angie sighed, looking at the door. “She had a memory but…it sounded like it was bad…whatever happened.” She whispered into the receiver, eyes landing on a photo of the two of them on the rooftop patio; Howard was experimenting with instant photography and decided to use them as his test subjects. Peggy was smiling up at her while Angie gave her best mock come hither stare. “She was looking for Barnes in Russia.”

“That we figured.”

“They found a blueprint. Stark Industries…”

Natasha’s brow furrowed. “And the map?”

“She didn’t mention the map. Just that it was an encrypted message, mentioned Barnes and Stark.” Angie shrugged.

“Where is she now?”

“Sleeping.” She hadn’t wanted to call Natasha but she needed the information relayed so they would leave her alone. She had a strange feeling that they were going to start demanding answers sooner rather than later, especially considering how removing Peggy from their care endangered everything and everyone. _Don’t think about that now. They’re gonna get you on the ropes, kid, duck and weave, get out of the corner._ “That’s the best I can get right now. She’s real freaked out.”

“You _can_ call me if you need me. Not just to report things, alright?”

Angie nodded, knowing Natasha couldn’t see it. “Thanks. Just, uh, just tell Fury for me, will ya?”

“Copy.” Natasha replied succinctly. She hung up and checked the telescope again, still annoyed that Angie kept the curtains drawn. She took another sip from her can of Red Bull and sighed.

 

            _Peggy picked her way alongside the mountain, gun at the ready as she moved. She ruminated over the things they’d found, disappointed the intel had been inconclusive and that she was going to have to deal with a very cross Angie and Howard. They’d become a unified front when it came to disapproving of her activities. She heard a twig snap to her right and she immediately snapped her attention in the direction of the noise; in one fluid motion, she’d removed the safety and had the gun trained on the treeline. She strafed along the narrow path, still eyeing the treeline before turning to continue picking her way down._

_She didn’t even see him._

_He was strong, solidly built, power radiating from him as the syringe sank into her throat, ice-cold liquid filling her veins. Her body froze and she felt herself falling; it was the same sensation she had when Dottie kissed her but rather than feel the effect gradually, her entire body succumbed to the cold. Her vision blurred, the sky filling her view, her mouth dry as she gasped for air._ _A face swam into view. She knew him. It was impossible. He was locked up; she escorted him to the plane for transport herself. She told them to take his ring, they’d locked it up in a sub cellar, unmarked save for a simple description but time and patience made him angry and determined. "We meet again Agent Carter" he grinned, strong hands holding her in place as she struggled to shake the feeling of sinking into the snow covered ground. She kept trying to clear her throat, blinking hard, anything to avoid hearing him. "I have made quite a few friends in my time, they all send their regards" she squirmed, moving against the vice-like grip on her arms._

_"Listen to the sound of my voice" he breathed, deceptively soothing in tone. She could only partially hear him, her right ear still ringing as she grit her teeth and started humming a tune Angie loved to sing on Sunday when she was home from work and airing the mansion out. They were in the library, music filtering from the speakers as she worked. She focused on the image of her, the way she twirled around and threw a dirty rag at her. "C’mon English this place ain't cleaning itself!" She shook her head, focusing on her smiling face, the way she jitterbugged as she cleaned the globe. “Hey, Pegs, whatya say we go on an adventure? You and me…” she spun the globe, finger poised over it as it whirled. “Wherever my finger lands, that’s where we’ll go.”_

_She heard him rasp. "She's dead. Choked the life out of her."_

_Peggy moved, she swung putting all of her strength into connecting with his face. "Like hell she is." she pitched forward, face first into the ground and felt everything upend._

_It feels like she’s drowning. Her lungs ache and she realizes they’ve shoved a tube down her throat. It burns and she wants to retch but she can’t move her arms to pull it out. She’s in a chamber; a window shows her a dirty lab, lit by halogens pressed up into the corners, giving out a blinding white light. It’s cold and it’s only getting colder. A handsome face appears. ‘Steve’…she wants to say, but the tube is blocking anything from being said. He smiles. ‘It’s gonna be fine, Peg, it’ll all be over.’ Just as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone and she sees him, Faustus. He smiles. “It’ll all be over…” She caught a flash of a silver arm, loading a weapon, disappearing before she could even understand what she was seeing._

_“Well fly over again, McCord! It ain’t like her to just up and disappear!” Duggan bellowed into the radio. He and the Commandos ran up the same path as Woodrow McCord’s helicopter hovered overhead, providing aerial coverage. “She’s up here on this damned mountain! And we ain’t leavin til we get her!”_

_“I got no interest in leaving Peggy out here. What was her last location?” McCord barked back, turning in his seat to stare at the ground._

_“Up on the other end of this stupid building…” Duggan yelled, leading the charge up the hill. “Remind me to thank you later.”_

_“Uh, fellas, we got company…” McCord replied, flipping open the automatic guns. “Right side.”_

_He watched the muzzle fire from down below, cracking into the woods, bullets peppering the trees. He continued scanning the ground for signs of Peggy. “Hey! Her rifle is a ways up from you and I’m seein’ tracks. Get into the building, she’s gotta be in there. I’ll cover you.” He opened fire, the Gatling guns offering suppression fire as Pinky fired a rocket into the side of the building. He fired again, chunks of concrete flying everywhere as the group swarmed the hastily made entryway._

_Gunfire. “Her friends are here.” He nodded and prepared to flip the switch. She felt the cold, staring at her toes, moving up her calves as she hyperventilated, the tube forcibly pumping oxygen. She tried moving as the fluid slowly filled the chamber. She saw lights, heard the muffled sound of gunfire, blasts and shouts. The fluid was at her waist and filling the chamber fast. She saw a familiar Bowler hat. He was yelling, slamming the butt of his rifle into the chamber door. The fluid was at her torso; she couldn’t fight anymore._

_‘It’s as I promised, Miss Carter…an end to you…’ his voice crept into her mind again and she shut her eyes, the fluid creeping at her collarbone. She squeezed her eyes tight, imagining a smile face, her face. Angie…_

_Then the world went black._

 

            Peggy sat up screaming, covered in sweat. Angie was up and out of her chair in a second, immediately gathering Peggy in her arms, soothing her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s just a dream…it’s okay you’re safe, you’re right here with me…”

Peggy’s eyes were wild, her breath ragged as she gripped the fabric of Angie’s shirt. It was dark outside, the sun set hours ago, the sound of rain on the windowsill doing little to calm her down. Angie held her, soothing her sweat slicked hair back from her face, kissing her forehead softly, not even certain if it was something she should be doing but doing it anyway. She felt Peggy lapse into her, finally catching her breath. “You’re alright, okay? I’m right here…You’re safe…”

Peggy nodded into the crook of Angie’s neck, swallowing hard, her mouth feeling paper dry. “Water…” she croaked, suddenly missing the warmth of Angie pressed against her. She took the glass and drank deeply, thankful when Angie immediately replenished it without a word. “Thank you…”

“Shhh.” Angie soothed, gently rubbing circles on Peggy’s back. “Don’t worry.”

Peggy nodded absently, finishing the water and letting Angie take it from her, placing it on the nightstand next to the pitcher. “Where you here the while I slept?”

“Yeah…couldn’t resist watching you sleep…” Angie admitted. “I didn’t want to wake you when you started having…”

“The nightmare.” Peggy finished, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. Her skin felt clammy.

“What was it about?” Angie asked, brushing back errant locks from Peggy’s face. Her hair had gotten so long, it curtained just past her shoulders. “Do you remember anything?”

“I was in a chamber. It filled up with a fluid…I froze…I was frozen…”

Angie’s heart stilled. She hadn’t thought she would remember that. She brushed away an errant tear, tucking her hand under Peggy’s chin and tilting her eyes up. “You remember that?”

“Yes…” she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Angie’s. “You were the last thing I remembered.”

 

_“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” Duggan roared, ready to shoot Faustus in the face._

_“Justice.” He replied._

_“You take her out of there or I swear to God…”_

_A metal fist connected solidly with his jaw, knocking him into the chamber. “You son of a bitch!” he growled, charging for the man with the metal arm. Bedlam erupted as Pinky and Happy worked to unplug the machine, unsure if it was something they should do while Duggan was in a fist fight with a man with an iron fist._

_“McCord! You gotta get down here!” Pinky yelled into the radio, leaping on to the silver arm’s back only to be flung unceremoniously into the opposite wall._

_Happy tried to square up his shot but the man moved too fast. “McCord We need back up!!!”_

_He leapt in, tackling silver arm by the torso and slamming him to the ground. He palmed the side of his head, smashing it into the concrete. He stilled. McCord stood up, shaking his head. “Get that bastard into the brig.” He wiped the blood off knuckles with his shirttail. He looked behind Pinky who was slowly getting to his feet. “Where’d the doctor go?”_

_He turned. “Crap…”_

_“Nevermind…”_

_Silver arm was back up, a black blade in his left hand and slid it home easily into McCord’s back. He shoved McCord to the ground, flipping the blade in his palm easily, taking swipes at the men in the room while McCord lay doubled over on the ground, yelling obscenities before he pulled out his gun and fired at silver arm’s back. Four shots hit their mark but he kept moving, racing down the hallway. “No, forget him! She’s the mission now.” He grunted, standing up. “I liked this shirt…”_

_“How the hell do we get her outta there?!”_

_“We’re gonna have to take the whole thing…” McCord replied. This was out of his realm of expertise. He’d hunted strange things, that guy with the arm was now top on his list of things to find and kill, and he’d seen stranger things with Howard and Peggy. He pressed his face up against the glass, staring at Peggy’s face in the chamber. “We gotta head straight for New York.”_

_“Fire up the helicopter, get up overhead and we’ll lift her straight up and in…” Duggan ordered, his jaw black and blue from the punch._

_McCord huffed. “A thank you would be nice…” he turned and lumbered out of the lab, gun drawn._

_“Howard is gonna have a cow…” Pinky muttered, as he looked at the levers and controls. “This is Stark Industries stuff…”_

_“I think that’s gonna be the least of his worries…” Duggan replied, looking at the chamber, his heart breaking at the sight of Peggy inside._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woodrow McCord is a character in the Peggy/Howard comic book universe. He's also a former director of S.H.I.E.L.D
> 
> is that tid bit a spoiler?  
> maybe.  
> thanks for reading!


	7. The Scientist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is all flashbacks. We'll be in present day from here on out.  
> unless something needs some dramatic exposition.

7

The Scientist

 

            _McCord hastily bandaged himself up and grit his jaw as he maneuvered the helicopter over the ruined building, the clamps lowering down. “Stark.” He said, suddenly regretting multitasking at a time like this._

_“McCord. You’re calling me insteada Duggan. That can’t be good.”_

_“Mission went south.”_

_“What.” He could tell Howard had been pacing and stopped. “What happened?”_

_“It’s Peggy.” He watched as Duggan latched down the chamber, waving back up towards the cockpit to load it up. “ She’s in trouble. We found your toys here, someone’s been using them and they used it on her.”_

_Howard closed his eyes and sank into his chair. “Break international travel laws if you have to but get her here as fast as you can.”_

_“Will do.”_

_Howard nearly finished the bottle of scotch before Jarvis carried him into the washroom, running the shower while he vomited. In between retching, he was crying and yelling “I think she’s dead…she’s dead…I killed her…” He kept muttering about Peggy and Angie and how he was a total cockup for this. He fell asleep propped up against the toilet seat before he woke up again, hours later, eyes glassy, stomach and throat on fire and a concerned Jarvis staring at him from the edge of the clawfoot tub. “Sir. Mr. McCord is a few hours out.” He held out a glass of water and asprin._

_He nodded his thanks, taking the proffered items and downing it. “I might’ve gotten Peggy killed…”_

_Jarvis’ jaw dropped. “Sir…”_

_“I can’t say anything to Angie…not yet…” he tried to push himself up from the floor, failed miserably and sitting back down, grimacing as he stretched out his legs. “I told her not to go…” he shook his head, regretting the action and grimacing. “First Steve now her…”_

_“Mr. McCord sounded optimistic…for someone who was stabbed by an unknown assailant.”_

_“Who stabbed him? How far out were they?”_

_“He said and I quote, ‘some Russian bastard with a metal arm that’ll look good on his trophy wall.’ He said they were just approaching the Atlantic.” He refilled the glass from the tap, holding it out to Howard. “Sir. I can inform Miss Martinelli…” he added gently, watching Howard as he gulped the water._

_“No…no…I’ll do it. I didn’t fight her hard enough to get her to stay, the least I can do is break the news to her…”_

_Angie felt the receiver slip out of her grip, the plastic clattering onto the floor; she barely heard the tail end of Howard’s sentence. She’d wanted a house with all these phones and now she just wanted to rip it and every single one of them out of the wall and toss them into the fire. She couldn’t breathe. An anguished sob ripped from of her chest as she sank against the bed, her rear end landing hard on the floor._

_Jarvis arrived a half an hour later, gathering her from the floor, helping her clean up and allowing her to pack a bag before she cried curled up in the backseat of the car. She followed Jarvis wordlessly into the S.H.I.E.L.D offices, eyes red from crying and more tears threatening to spill. Her watery gaze landed on Howard and suddenly, she saw red. He had sobered up and was pacing back and forth, finishing up another glass of water. He stopped when Angie walked in. “Angie…”_

_“You’re somthin’ else you know that!” she roared, crossing the room and slapping Howard, the sound cracking in silence. “She didn’t want to go, but you made her! You made her and now she’s she’s…where is she!? Where is she Howard?! I wanna see her! What did you do?!” she punched and slapped at him for a good minute before Jarvis intervened, holding her by the waist and pulling her to the other end of the room. “She did this for you, didn’t she? I wanna know what happened!”_

_Howard’s cheeks, chest and back throbbed. She was scrappy. “I don’t know the whole story. I just know she was hurt. There was an accident…”_

_“How?! What was she doin’ out there?” She was livid, the sadness giving way to rage. “You have people out there to do this kind of thing! She didn’t need to be out there and you sent her to find your junk!”_

_The phone rang and Jarvis answered it. “Sir, they’ve arrived.”_

_Howard nodded, rolling up his sleeves. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”_

_“No I want to see her.” Angie snapped._

_“Trust me. You don’t.”_

_Duggan and McCord were immediately rushed to another medical area to be treated for their injuries. The bloodstain on McCord’s back having blossomed into something serious while Duggan was certain he was going to need a set of dentures after this. Howard stopped in his tracks as two technicians wheeled the chamber in and stood it upright. “Sir, she’s alive in there…”_

_Howard’s eyes went wide. She was in there, perfectly preserved, a mouthpiece planted between her lips. “It’s a cryo-statis chamber…this…” he rounded the entirety of the chamber. “This is my design…how…?”_

_Pinky grimly held out Peggy’s rucksack. “She found it.”_

_He took the bag and ferreted through the contents, the blueprint tumbling out after rounds of ammunition. He shook his head in disbelief. “We can do this.” He said more to himself than of the grim faced medics around him, “Get her out of there. Now.”_

_“I’m sure it will be alright…” Jarvis offered, watching Angie pour herself another tumbler of Howard’s expensive scotch. She hated the way it tasted but she needed to feel something else besides her heart breaking. She eyed him over the lip of the glass as he sat nervously perched by the blue phone on the edge of the desk. She liked him, he was stuffy like Peggy, didn’t really know what to say and more than likely didn’t understand his boss. “If it is in fact rogue Stark Industries technology, I’m sure Mr. Stark will be able to fix the problem…”_

_“Shoulders, Stark_ **is** _the problem. “If she’d just learned how to say no to the guy…”” She said, taking a sip and sitting down in the chair behind the desk. She recognized the blotter, an anniversary date circled, the letter A in the corner of the date box. She sat up suddenly, her head cocking to the right quizzically before glancing up and around the office. “This is her office isn’t it…?”_

_Jarvis looked around, suddenly very uncomfortable. “Yes.” He replied quietly, immediately wishing he wasn’t in the room with her._

_Fresh tears formed and fell as she deposited the glass onto the desk and opened the drawers. Her heart stopped. The top right drawer held a framed old headshot of hers._ Even if she ain’t with you, you’re with her. That ain’t nothin’. _She drank bitterly, closing the drawer again, running her left hand on the blotter, the liquor burning her throat as she waited._

_Howard checked her pulse, closing his eyes to focus on her steady heartbeat over his erratic one. It’d taken them three hours to extract her from the chamber and an excruciating ten minutes resuscitating her. ‘She was dead. She’d died when they’d taken her out.’ For a brief moment he entertained keeping her in there, just to keep her alive. “Run every test you can. I want to know why she isn’t waking up.”_

_He tore off his coat and raced back upstairs._

_Angie had fallen asleep, her head resting on the desk. She was snoring soundly, a blanket draped across her shoulders. Howard entered and let out a sigh of relief. “She’s okay. We got her out but…”_

_“Excellent news sir…” Jarvis replied, watching Angie as she slept. “Miss Martinelli will be pleased.”_

_“She’s not waking up. It’s like she’s just…” he shrugged. “She’s there, she’s got a pulse, she’s got brain activity but..I’ve never seen anything like it.” He flopped onto a chair, shaking his head. “They bastardized my work…”_

_“Sir, you had no idea…”_

_“But I did…” Howard whispered, “I knew that I was running a risk with something like Project Rebirth. Whatever we accomplished with Steve, whatever anyone else tried, whatever they got was gonna be a whole new monster…I knew what I was doing was going to change everything…I didn’t think that’d there’d be so many Frankenstein’s in the world. People wanting to…destroy…” he leaned back in the chair, scrubbing his face with his hands, watching Angie through his fingers. “She’s right. I did this. I brought this on…”_

_“Sir, you did what you can and you are not entirely responsible for the actions Miss Carter took. You’re also not entirely at fault for the particular set of people who’ve taken it upon themselves to play God. Now, you need to rest and when Miss Martinelli comes around, I think you should speak to her and she should see Miss Carter.”_

_Howard nodded absently, staring at Angie as she slept on the desk. He leaned back in the chair and waited._

 

 

            _Howard was grateful that she’d slept through most of the night while he tried to get a sense of what happened. He slipped out and found Dum Dum Duggan and Woodrow McCord perched together on the end of a battered couch, sharing a bottle of bourbon. Much to his chargin, Duggan needed his jaw wired shut; he’d seen so many people smiling at him because of it, it made his jaw ache even more. Howard knew Duggan was lousy with keeping his field notes together while McCord insisted that he wanted to be the one to crush the tin man._

_He paced in front of the two men, his hands jammed into his pockets as he tried piecing together what happened._

_“Based on what you’re telling me, this guy is what? Proto-human? Half robot?”_

_McCord grunted. “He’s something. Probably alien…”_

_“Woody, not everything with a bizarre ability is an alien…”_

_“That sounds an awful like someone who_ **doesn’t** _remember what happened with that Kree ship…”_

_“Kree fip? Wuffat?” Duggan asked with genuine interest._

_Howard put his hands up in the hope of silencing anything else from being mentioned. He remembered; he’d taken parts and had them in a locked bunker under Hoboken until he had a chance to really test it out in the Gila Flats. “I get it, I get it…you said he had a metal arm, his face covered and was fast.”_

_Duggan nodded, taking a sip of bourbon through a straw. “Neffer seen anyfing rike it.”_

_“C’mon Dum Dum…write it down…” Howard whined, cringing at the trickle of drool forming on the corner of Duggan’s mouth. He held out a notepad and pen in agitation. Duggan scribbled quickly. ‘Whole left arm, shiny, looked expensive. Quick as devil, just as hard 2 kill.’_

_“Doesn’t sound like anything we’ve got in our labs.” Howard replied after a few tries at reading Duggan’s response. “You shoulda paid a little more attention in penmanship class there, pal.”_

_“Imariddledrunk.” Duggan managed to say._

_“’Cept for your buddy Rogers.” McCord answered icily, leaning back on the couch, the springs creaking under his weight._

_Howard shook his head. “We didn’t do anything like that.” He said flatly, his eyes landing on Peggy as she slept in an isolation tent, surrounded by machines. “Plus, he was 100 percent Grade A all American. It was all him when he stepped into that machine and all him when he came out.”_

_“Say someone saw enough of your work to do it again. Maybe they found a way to fix up a fella and do the same thing. You’re not the only guy out here playing games with people.” McCord said, taking another swig from the bourbon. HE politely dropped Duggan’s straw into the opening. “You said it yourself, you met a senator who was Hydra that day and didn’t even know it. Maybe there’s more than you think.”_

_Duggan’s eyes bugged. ‘Leviathan!’ he wrote excitedly._

_“Leviathan…that’s what Peggy was dealin’ with in ’46. They were connected with stealing my stuff but they’ve gone under…”_

_“Or so you think.”_

_Duggan tapped the pen on the pad again. ‘Y shaped scars on throat. They were there, wearing Hydra suits.’_

_Howard’s brow creased in thought. “So we’ve got two organizations, one guy with a fancy arm and my best friend is on ice.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Do me a favor, put everything into your field notes, same with the rest of the commandos seal them and make sure no one but me gets them, got it?” Both men nodded their agreement. “Go ahead and hit the hay, I’ve got a few things to finish up here.”_

_Angie was already awake, groggily rubbing at her eyes as see checked the time. It was well after 2, whether it was in the evening or in the afternoon she had no idea; the office had no windows. She stretched and let out a squeak at the sight of Jarvis pouring out a cup of coffee for her. “Jeeze, Shoulders, you’ll give a girl a heart attack!”_

_“Apologies Miss Martinelli…I was trying to keep quiet as to not disturb you.” He replied, handing her the cup and saucer._

_“Well…thanks…” she took a sip, lips pursed as she swallowed. “You can call me Angie, y’know. You can dump all the pleasantry crap.”_

_Jarvis chuckled. “Force of habit, I’m afraid.” He motioned to the array of pastries on the small cart he’d wheeled in. “Breakfast treat?”_

_“So it’s two am?”_

_“Quite correct.”_

_“Where’s Howard?”_

_As though on cue, Howard appeared in the doorway. “Speak of the Devil…”_

_“When can I see her?” Angie asked not skipping a beat._

_Howard made a beeline for the coffee, nearly bulldozing Jarvis over to get it. “She’s stable.”_

_“What happened?”_

_“Accident.” He said, swallowing the hot coffee without blowing on it. He grimaced as it burned it’s way down his throat. “She’s not hurt as far as we can tell but…”_

_“How can someone not be hurt but hurt?”_

_He took a slower sip, trying not to scald himself. “She was put into a chamber, Angie. Some kind of cryo-statis chamber…”_

_“What for?”_

_“That’s what I’m putting together. See, the theory is, you can pretty much be immortal if you’re in one of those things…You stop the clock on time, either for brief intervals or long term. There’s a hotshot movie producer trying to get it to work just so he can keep running the business running forever. It’s more fantasy than anything else but it looks like someone made it a reality.” Howard did a poor job of hiding how impressed he was with it; Angie noticed and didn’t like it. “Now the fellas say they got to her in time but the problem was getting her out of there. They didn’t know how to do it. Considering they came in straight here from Russia, she’s basically been in there for about a day. I’m running tests on the compounds that were used but that’s gonna take some time and I don’t have the man power right now to really…”_

_“She’s your friend Howard. You can find the man power.” Angie replied, forgetting her coffee and staring down the man she’d considered a friend._

_“I’m working on that…” Howard replied sheepishly, taking another nervous sip of coffee. “Here’s the thing, I don’t know what it did to her. I don’t know why anybody would put her in something like that in the first place and I don’t know how much time she has.”_

_Angie felt the sting of tears again. She blinked the back, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. “You said that thing could make her immortal.”_

_“In theory.”_

_Angie nodded. She was smart, she was, everyone always treated her like she was dumb as rocks and was going to get by in the world on her looks and moxie. “Who’s theory?”_

_Howard blanched._

_“Howard.”_

_“Mine. Based on a couple of those old Jules Verne books…”_

_“So someone built that thing based on something_ **you** _did.”_

_He winced at Angie’s tone. She wasn’t the bubbly girl he’d been a friend with for years; she was pissed. “And Jules Verne.”_

_“The hell with Jules Verne, Howard! This is Peggy we’re talking about. Peggy who risked her neck for you! Peggy who, even when I_ BEGGED _her not to, packed up her things and headed off to God knows where for you. Knowing you have all those people at your beck and call. She was the Director for all this! She didn’t need to go..”_

_“She wanted to. I couldn’t stop her anymore than you could’ve.” He finally abandoned the cup of coffee and pressed his palms together. “I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I didn’t want this to happen. I accept that all of this is my fault, that everything that could’ve gone wrong did and that all lands on me; Steve, this everything. I never wanted her to go, I never asked her to go. Everything that woman does it out of loyalty, honor and duty…”_

_“Then you oughta take a page outta her book Howard.” She blinked and let the tears fall before hastily wiping them away with the tips of her fingers. “I want to see her.”_

_“Of course.”_

_Angie pressed her hand up against the tent, terrified to enter. She appeared to be sleeping, wires and tubes snaking out and around her connecting her to various machines and devices. She wiped at her eyes, fingers wet with tears as Howard opened up the tent and allowed her entry. She reached out for Peggy’s right hand, a shuttered breath leaving her lips; she was cold to the touch. “Why is she cold?” Angie asked in alarm, immediately cupping Peggy’s hand in her own._

_“Body temperature was below freezing…she’ll warm up.” Howard replied, watching as Angie brushed back Peggy’s still damp hair off her forehead, kissing it gently. “It’s gonna take some time…”_

_“Do you know who did this?”_

_“We have leads…”_

_She wanted to ask but she didn’t want him to know that Peggy occasionally shared office secrets with her. She knew it had to be Hydra; they had been the only ones tampering with this type of mad science and she was fairly certain they’d always carried a grudge with her. “What are you going to do about that?”_

_Howard chewed his lip anxiously. “We’re going to send out teams to find them. I’m going to bring her back…”_

_Angie let out a watery snort. “You’re gonna hide in a lab while other people get messy.”_

_“I’m no good in a fight, Angie…” he sighed. “I’m placing Woodrow McCord as the interim Director until she gets back. You want me to hide in a lab anyhow, that’s how she gets to hide behind a desk for the rest of her life.” He placed his right hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “That’s a fight I know I can win.”_

_Six Months Later_

 

_Angie convinced Howard to hire her as a secretary. Fearing it would cause conflict of interest; he made her McCord’s assistant and allowed her to work out of Peggy’s office. McCord was barely in the office and didn’t need a space. They spoke occasionally, mostly about the progress and little else about anything that wasn’t leading to the object of their mutual obsession. Years of line study improved Angie’s ability to read and retain anything, allowing her time to read through file after file of SSR and S.H.I.E.LD. data; memorizing it and cataloguing it for later use. After awhile, she came to define the logistics portion of the organization, helping to organize their database and archival system while providing McCord with much needed information as he stalked across Europe looking for the one armed boogeyman. She’d come to like him; he was stubborn and wanted to kill the man who’d taken Peggy out of commission. She spent her free time with Peggy, watching the doctors’ fret over her while comparing lab report after lab report, the same answer repeated like a broken record. ‘We just don’t know.’_

_Howard, for his part, was dedicated to researching a solution. He split his time between the labs and his research projects, delivering blueprints and schematics for the World’s Fair. Angie watched him from time to time as he obsessed over a blue piece of some glowing rock he’d found in his travels; he insisted it could power a city if only he could harness the energy._

_She’d lost weight and hadn’t been sleeping at home, spending all her time in the infirmary with Peggy as everyone struggled to figure out a way to wake her up. She’d finally dragged herself into the cafeteria, pouring herself a cup of coffee that tasted like it’d been there since the end of the war, drinking it without enthusiasm before shuffling back into the room, staring at Peggy. She held Peggy’s hand, humming soundlessly until she fell into a fitful sleep. When she woke, it was to the sound of one of the doctors on call checking Peggy’s vitals, doing his best to stay quiet._

_She spent her nights rooting around the mansion finding Peggy’s hiding places for her journals, reading them in the hopes of finding some comfort during the lonely nights. Peggy wrote about her more often than she wrote about work; she especially enjoyed those entries. After Steve’s plane went down, she’d written nearly an entry a day about him; she didn’t really care for those entries. When she found something about a past mission, she wrote down what she could into a new book to smuggle into the office and compare it to what was already found. In her research, she found that Howard was familiar with the work of a Doctor Stephen Strange and while his name gave her the creeps, his research and findings offered some hope to the dire situation. S.H.I.E.L.D owed this man a visit sometime._

_One late night, she knocked on Howard’s office door with a completely insane idea._

_She wanted to replicate Operation Rebirth._

_“What you’re asking me to do, Ang, is impossible. I won’t do it again.” Howard finished his scotch and grimaced, the amber liquid burning his throat as he poured out another. “I miss her too, we all do but that…that’s something I won’t do.”_

_“What if I told you that I’m willing to do it? That there’s someone who’d be willing to try and I’m signing everything away to you to do it.” Angie asked. “Even if it completely fails, it fails and I knew what I was getting myself into? Can you say that for the fellas who signed up and didn’t know what for?”_

_Howard braced his palms on his desk, his head bowed in defeat. “That’s a low blow.” He looked up at Jarvis who gave him a sympathetic nod. Howard had to admit he had that one coming. “Angie, think for a second. It isn’t as simple as you think. What if the government caught wind of what I’m doing? Do you know what they’d do to me? To you? I wouldn’t risk it. Why would you want that? I’m not that guy anymore. I’m here trying to build a better tomorrow. I make housewives happy. I make things that make life better. That. That doesn’t make anyone’s life better.” He shook his head in defeat._

_“Why wouldn’t you wanna give it another go?” Angie asked stubbornly. “You got it to work before, why would that change? Cause I’m a girl?”_

_“No. It has nothing to do with that…” he threaded his hands behind his head, cradling it as he spoke. “We lost the last real sample thanks to those idiots at the SSR so I couldn’t even replicate that, if I wanted to. The serum would take time to perfect, the facility needs to get built, there’s still tests and finding doctors who aren’t spies.”_

_“You saw what they’re working on, Howard. You saw what they shoved her into… You think they care about the government? We both saw what was in those documents McCord brought back. They snagged Roxxon Oil materials. They’re waging war like it never stopped.”_

_“So you suggest this. This is what you come up with? Why?”_

_“Because I know it’s going to work and deep down, you know it would too.” Angie stared at Howard. He was a man who used to intimidate her when they’d first met but had come to be a close friend. She remembered the way he smiled knowingly at her when Peggy absently reached for her hand during a reception. He’d always known and he’d always been on her side. “Peggy said it was about the heart of the person, not the serum.”_

_“She wouldn’t want this.” Howard sadly replied._

_“Let’s be realistic here Angie, you turning yourself into some super soldier isn’t gonna help Peggy’s situation.”_

_“Let’s say that thing worked. Let’s say it makes her immortal and she’s in some kind of recuperative coma. Let’s say she doesn’t wake up in six days or six months, maybe she wakes up in six years. You’re gonna be ancient and I’m gonna be a coupla walkers behind you…”_

_“And if she doesn’t wake up at all? Then what? You pump yourself fulla serum and do what? Act like nothing happened?” He crossed his arms with agitation, his jaw set, the muscles flexing as he waited for an answer. “What if you do all that, she does wake up and you’re dead? What if the government finds out I went behind their backs and did it again with someone else?”_

_Angie stilled. “It ain’t always about you Howard.”_

_“When you’re talking about using my expertise, my labs and my equipment to do something insane, it kinda is.”_

_“You and S.H.I.E.L.D. can’t always protect her. I can. I will.”_

_Howard studied the woman in front of him. She was years removed from the bright-eyed woman he’d met years back. She was still there, the defiance in her posture, the dangerous look in her eyes but she was honed in her craft now; she wasn’t acting like a woman on the brink, she was a woman on the brink and it gave him chills. He let his hands drop from the back of his head, staring up at the ceiling as he contemplated this new development. If he did it, he’d be breaking his own rules, breaking the law (again) and he’d potentially kill Angie; if he didn’t do it, he’d be in the clear but Angie would find a way to convince someone else to agree to doing it. “What if we do it and use it on Peggy? See if we can accelerate her recovery.”_

_“No. You said you don’t know what that stuff they gave her was and for all you know you kill her with the stuff you make.”_

_“But I can potentially kill you.”_

_Angie moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I’d rather take that risk.”_

_“Gimme a night to think about it.” He replied in resignation. “It’s a lot to process.”_

_Angie nodded grimly. “I’m patient.”_

 

 

_One Year Later_

 

            _“This is some of the original batch. A buddy of mind over in Washington risked his neck to get a sample back for me.”_

_“Why was there a sample in Washington?” Angie asked, staring at the vial on the lab table like it was a live explosive._

_“I had to turn in my research once Steve was active. I kept one, the feds got the rest. Atleast I had one.” He glanced up from the vial, catching Angie’s gaze. “Didn’t want to give it to ‘em but they paid most of the bill.” He returned his gaze to the vial, studying it with a vague sense of awe in his tone.. “It’s been a year Angie. Are you sure this is something you wanna do?” Howard asked, palms braced on the table, still not completely sold on this idea_

_“It’s been a year and her condition hasn’t changed.” Angie sat down on nearby metal stool, bracing her palms on the tops of her thighs. She’d taken to wearing much of Peggy’s wardrobe, wool slacks and a button down top; she felt like she was playing dress up and it made her feel brave. “Strange said that she still has brain activity, she’s alive but outside of that…”_

_“I told you to stay away from that guy.”_

_“He’s the only one who’s actually attempted to do something…”_

_“Yes, usin’ his mysticism and so called science to find her soul in a spirit realm and keep it in a mayo jar. Real professional that guy.” He pushed up off the metal table, rubbing his palms together. “Y’know that he was a neurosurgeon? The best in the city. The guy gets into a car wreck, loses his hands and turns into some kinda space Merlin. What’d he try to sell you on this time? That Resurrection Stone? That thing’s a myth. McCord’s been lookin’ for it for years. Those,” he made air quotations with his fingers, “Infinity Gems, garbage. Nobody’s got them, they’re not on Earth and if they are, they’re buried somewhere probably with good reason. He’s got nothin’ and he’s fillin’ your head with junk just so he feels like he’s doin’ something with his time.” He turned his back on Angie, eyes raised skyward in frustration as he jammed his hands into the pockets of his three-day-old khaki pants._

_“And what’re you offerin’?”_

_Howard turned, his face unreadable. “We’re calling it Genesis.”_

_“Sounds Biblical.” Angie replied quietly, her eye never leaving Howard’s still neutral expression._

_“It’s supposed to. We’re stepping into the Garden and tempting fate.”_

_She passed all her physicals with flying colors and spent all of her time in the lab, researching over Howard’s shoulder. Jarvis kept the mansion clean but drove Angie back twice a week to collect fresh clothes, mail and laundry detail. Jarvis was understandably uncomfortable handling Angie’s underthings. She kept her conversations with Doctor Strange to a minimum, still intrigued by his research and the Infinity Gems. It all sounded so fantastic; the idea of parallel dimensions, of other worlds, gods and monsters seemed like something straight out of a pulp novel. She had come to discover that sometimes fiction had basis in reality. She kept detailed notes, ordering them for Howard when he was too slaphappy with exhaustion to keep everything together. When she wasn’t reading everything she could find, she was down in the room with Peggy, checking her vitals and talking to her as though she would wake up and ask her what she had been prattling on about._

_Angie began field training, firing guns and running various drills to hone her skills. If she was expected to continue her work in S.H.I.E.L.D she was going to put in the same effort the rest of the organization put in. McCord trained her with knives while Duggan helped with artillery; both of them sharing in her grief._

_She was terrified as she sat in a simple gown in a lab room while Howard prepared the first battery of inoculations. The needles were terribly long and there were six of them. She imagined the fear in Peggy’s eyes when they’d shoved her into the chamber and steeled herself;_ Peggy didn’t know what was happening to her, you do _. She took a deep breath, holding it as Howard swabbed her upper arm and injected the serum. It was cold, the injection spot numb before it felt like fire had been shot into her body. She grimaced as he swabbed the other shoulder. “Injection two.” He said mechanically, the plunger dropping. She grit her teeth, grimacing. “Sorry Ang…” he used his eyebrow to gesture to her rear. “Only one but it’s the lousiest one…”_

_She exposed her hip and squeezed her eyes shut, the needle pushing deep into the tissue, the sensation of fire flowing through her causing her to let out a tiny whimper._

_“Almost done kid, you’re doin’ fine…” Howard said before returning to the arms again and finishing the injections. “All injections deployed. Subject is awake and responsive.” He flashed a pen light in Angie’s eyes, watching her pupil dilate. “Flex your arms for me.” Angie held out her arms, moving them around, watching the small smile on Howard’s face. “Anything feel funny?”_

_“No…”_

_He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “First battery is complete. Tomorrow, we’ll test your speed, strength and stamina.”_

_“Why not now?”_

_“Because it’s fresh in your system, you’ll be faster, stronger and last longer than you normally would. If it doesn’t break down in your body by tomorrow, then it’s working…”_

_“So all this is temporary.” Angie said flatly, disappointment in her tone. “When do I get the chamber?”_

_“Why do you want the chamber, Angie…?”_

_“The vita rays made Rogers’ condition permanent. Peggy’s condition looks like it’s permanent. I need this to stick.”_

_“If we did this right, you’ll be able to operate just fine…”_

_“While needing to jab myself fulla that stuff every single day? No. Howard, I read the reports and research…”_

_“I’m not turning you into a monster Angie!” he turned away, running his hands through his hair. “It’s bad enough you and McCord convinced me this was a good idea but I can’t just create you into something because you’re upset…People do dangerous things when they’re grieving to give themselves something else to feel. I can’t do this.”_

_“You already started and now you’re gettin’ cold feet?” Angie slipped off the exam table, faster than either of them thought she could. It surprised her how much stronger she felt, her muscles felt as though she could run a marathon and beyond. “What happens if I stop takin’ the injections? What if I plotz out or somethin’? You can’t quit now.”_

_“I can actively protest…”_

_“Then protest. I don’t care. We’re doin’ this. We already started and we’re gonna finish it.”_

_She left the lab, her body wound up tight enough to snap._

_McCord nodded his approval. “She’s fast alright.” They were in a simulation theater, overlooking a mock up of an office space where Angie swept through the floor fifteen seconds faster than she had the week before. That time she breezed through in two minutes twenty seconds. “Moves like a dancer…”_

_“She was an actress. Is an actress. I dunno.” Howard replied, watching as she neutralized an attacker. “This was a terrible idea.”_

_“How you figure?”_

_“Look at her. That’s not the girl I met years back, the girl Peggy fell in love with…she’s a monster…What if Pegs wakes up and see this instead of her girl? What then?”_

_McCord shrugged. “She’ll see her. She’ll see someone who went to war to get her back. It’s still her, the girl you met and the girl who got Peggy to smile a little more. That what we do Howard. We go to war and we let fellas like you take the credit for fixing us up. We go to war for the things we believe in, to protect the things that matter. Peggy went in there lookin’ for your stuff, looking for something for Rogers…Martinelli is in there now looking for Peggy. We’re all lookin’ for something. We all wanna be heroes.” He clapped his shoulder. “You’re just the scientist who makes it happen.”_

_Howard barely spoke to Angie as he administered the last batch of injections. She intimidated him now. She hadn’t grown in muscle mass or size the way Steve had, she was quiet, she felt lethal. She once walked the halls like a dancer, quiet and delicate; now she moved through the halls with the same powerful grace Peggy did. She was dangerous. She still smiled, she still laughed, and she told dirty jokes and hung out with the Commandos who gleefully told her old Peggy stories. When she visited Peggy’s room, she kept calling her Miss Union Jack in the hopes she’d wake up and demand to know where Duggan was so she could slap him silly. She felt like herself, but stronger. She felt as tough as Peggy. She felt him tense up as he finished the last syringe._

_“I repurposed the chamber she came in,” he said finally, capping the needle. “We’re testing out different waves at the moment…”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“Don’t thank me yet.”_

_All his years of research was boiling down to a Hail Mary pass in a basement facility on a girl who was barely out of her twenties. Howard didn’t like to pray but he found himself doing it while he loosened his tie and tossed it onto the nearby coat rack in his office. He scrubbed his face with his hands before turning on the tap and splashing water onto his heated cheeks. He was scared. He dried his face on a towel. He stared at his reflection. He hated the fact that despite all of his complaints and attempts to convince Angie not to do it, he was deeply curious to see if he could replicate the experiment. The damn Russians seemed to have been successful and they’d used his own technology to do it._

_Maria was right, he was starting to get a little gray. Maria. They’d been seeing each other on and off for months, work keeping him away from her but every time he was around her, he felt like all the sins of his past were distant memories and he was atoning for them every second he spent with her. She was the light of his life after years of living an empty playboy existence._

_Peggy would be proud that he’d grown up._

_It made sense to him now, what he was about to do for Angie. She was risking her life to save Peggy’s. He understood how someone would want to march straight into the mouth of Hell and fight every demon they laid their eyes on. They were in deep those two, much deeper than he suspected Peggy and Steve to be. They were flirtatious and infatuated with each other. Their time had been cut short; that had been his fault. He imagined there was another world where Steve was alive, Peggy was by his side and they were fighting the good fight. He had to stop talking to Doctor Strange; that kind of thinking can do serious damage._

_Too many people accused him of playing God, tampering with the laws of nature. He didn’t want to be God, he just wanted to know the limits of humanity; how far could they go if given the opportunity to do so. He didn’t want to be God. He just wanted to see how things worked. If this worked, the serum could be used to end whatever it was that was keeping Peggy under. It could radically change the medical landscape. He’d found a fountain of youth. If it didn’t work, he’d wasted his time, killed his best friend’s girl and he wasn’t sure he could live with that on his conscious._

_He slipped on his lab coat and shut off the bathroom light._

_He prayed all the way down to the lab._

_Angie was perched on the edge of a seat, clad in a tank top and shorts that touched the tops of her thighs. “I wasn’t going to be all the way naked for you, Stark.” She said wryly at his raised eyebrow. “Besides, you still got access to injection sites this way and I’d keep my reputation as a decent girl.”_

_He chuckled as he warmed up a stethoscope on his knee. “Always thinking of the little things…” He replied as he checked her heart rate. “Solid and stable. Not nervous?”_

_She shrugged. “Maybe a little. It’s like the moment before curtain up, you know you should be scared but you’re too involved to really let it show.”_

_He nodded. “Well. Curtain is about to go up.”_

_“I’m ready.”_

_She stepped into the chamber, her palms sweaty as she lay down. She imagined the terror Peggy must’ve felt being loaded into this thing. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists, knuckles popping._

_“Remember, you’re going to feel all the injections at once this time.” Howard said as he lowered the arms down, needles glinting in the lab light. “They’re gonna go in first.”_

_She nodded. “Ready.”_

_He nodded and a technician flipped a switch. She watched the arms lower, the needles pressing into her skin at once and the sensation of being doused from the inside with ice creeping throughout her body. She groaned, her head rolling back against the headrest as she grimaced her way through the pain._

_“Injection administered.” He said as he gingerly closed up the chamber door, his face appearing in the window. “It’s going to hurt. A lot. The temperature is going to go up and you’re gonna feel like a baked potato.”_

_She nodded, opening her eyes again, her heart sinking at the sight of fear in Howard’s eyes._ You’re on the ropes now kid, fight back.

_“I’ll count it down.” Howard stepped back, pulling on his goggles and all Angie could see in through the window was the exposed brick ceiling. She concentrated on her breathing, focusing on a smudge on the window where Howard’s palm had been. A low hum vibrated the chamber before it began ratcheting up into a rumble. The chamber began to warm up, her heart bashing against her ribs. She wanted to get out. She couldn’t do this. There had to be another way._

You’re on the ropes, kid. Bob and weave. Bob and weave. Right. Right. Left. Side step. There you go. Don’t let them think they got you.

_She heard herself scream._

_Then she passed out._

K.O.

 

_When the chamber door opened, she half expected a regiment of angels greeting her at the pearly gates. When Peggy told her the story of how she met Steve, she always remembered that she’d brazenly copped a feel not even ten seconds after the poor guy stumbled out of the apparatus. She kept her dukes up, hoping no one got the same idea. She nearly fell out of the chamber as she tried to get her legs back into working order. McCord held her up by her waist and shoulder._

_“Welcome back.” He said as he helped her step off the platform._

_“You alright?” Howard asked, immediately flashing a pen light into her eyes. “How’re you holding up?”_

_“Did I knock out?”_

_“Maybe.” Howard replied, pulling a chair over and watching McCord help her sit down. “Flex your fingers for me.”_

_She wiggled her fingers and toes, her head still foggy and mouth dry. “I need water. And a steak.”_

_Howard laughed. “Angie, you can have whatever you want…”_

_She finished the field test in a minute and ten seconds._

_She joined the Howling Commandos while they searched for the man with the iron arm. She didn’t last long; she couldn’t stand being separated from Peggy._

_She trained the new female recruits and took her job as assistant director seriously._

_She spent any free time around Peggy, falling asleep leaning on the hospital bed, her hand wrapped around hers._

_Howard never stopped trying to find Steve. He never let anyone in the organization cut funding for Peggy’s research._

_McCord made it practically law that Assistant Director Angela Martinelli was to be respected, her small stature be damned_

_Howard and Maria married._

_Howard moved out to Long Island._

_A few years later, they had a son. Anthony Edward Stark._

_He was a genius like his father._

_Howard served as S.H.I.E.L.D’s Director._

_He gave Angie ownership of the mansion._

_Dum Dum Duggan died._

_Pinky and Happy followed soon after._

_Howard and Maria died in a car accident._

_She thought she’d cried enough over Peggy._

_She visited Tony often, seeing his father in him as he built machines out of whatever happened to be around the house._

_McCord served as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D until he couldn’t._

_Commander Fury was intense and she was grateful that she had Maria Hill on hand to handle him._

_She still slept in the ward, her hand wrapped around Peggy’s, still read her the news, read her books until one day, she moved._

_Deputy Director Hill panicked._

_Agent Romanov’s eyes bugged out of her pretty face._

_Angie had a room set up, just like the one they’d set up for Captain Rogers a few years back._

_She put on Peggy's old uniform, her favorite lipstick and studied her reflection._

_She had been patient._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sped up the timeline because slow burn is fun and all but action is on it's way.


	8. When Worlds Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay. thanks for reading!

_8_

_When Worlds Collide_

After a shower, Peggy climbed back into bed, aware that Angie was watching her while she settled in. “Are you going to watch me sleep again?”

“Aw Peggy don’t make me sound like creep.” Angie replied with a chuckle.

“I’m certain that my mouth wide open is the least attractive thing I’ve done.”

“Trust me English, there ain’t much you can do to make you unattractive.” Angie blushed as soon as the words left her mouth. She noticed the pink on Peggy’s cheeks. “I’m here to chase away the bad dreams…”

Peggy nodded, putting her hair up into a bun. “I’m not certain you can.” she said sadly, settling down into the sheets. “Although, you’ve done a valiant job…” She cleared her throat, settling her eyes on the way Angie reclined back into the chair, pulling her legs up into her chest, a notebook in hand.

            “You’re planning something.”

Angie’s heart skipped. “What makes you say that?”

Peggy tucked her arm under her head, pushing up to study Angie. “I used to do that. Just, write out everything…”

“I’d find you sitting out on the deck writing…”

She nodded. “Things tend to fall into place when it’s all laid out in front of you.”

 _Like a map._ “It’s easier to let things flow when you’re not thinkin’ as much.”

Peggy nodded, stifled a yawn and settled deeper into the covers. “I didn’t always leave the bed you know…you’re welcome to settle here. I wouldn’t mind the company.” She let the comment hang between them, the distant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway and a restless city filling the silence.

She’d only been back a day but she’d felt like they’d survived a lifetime of disasters already. Her body ached as she sat up from the chair, crossing the room slowly, slipping out of her loafers and leaving them at the foot of the bed. This was it; this is what she’d been craving. This was what she’d dreamt of from the moment Peggy let her sleep over after a power outage in The Griffith and when they’d first arrived in the mansion. She sat on the edge of the bed, weighing the pros and cons of climbing into bed with a woman who was having violent nightmares and still couldn’t remember how she’d spent 60 years under. Peggy was sitting up now, the sheets pooled at her hips as Angie slid underneath the covers.

Peggy nodded. “Far less intimidating than your sitting over there…”

Angie chuckled. “You findin’ me intimidatin’ is pretty funny.” Peggy pulled the blankets up, watching Angie as she closed the book, using her pen as a bookmark. “Do you remember anything?” Angie asked, aware that Peggy was still a little worried.

Peggy busied herself with following a pattern on the quilt with her right index finger. “Everything is still cloudy. I remember things, the order is still a little…off.” She sighed. “I remember being drugged. I was held down on my knees in the snow…the grip was like a vice. I remember being cold.” She shut her eyes, transporting herself for a moment before speaking. “I remember hearing his voice…”

“Whose voice?”

“A man I’d put away in 1946. He was a Leviathan agent. Dr. Johann Fennhoff. I didn’t know that when we rescued him. He was locked in a Hydra facility with Stark Industries designs, things they’d stolen from Howard.” She glanced to her left, where Angie sat, her legs pulled into her chest, listening. She couldn’t remember if she had told Angie this story but it didn’t matter; Angie was rapt in attention. “We brought him back Stateside, to the SSR office presuming him to be an ally. All I did was bring _them_ through the front door. He, he was able manipulate people with the sound of his voice.” She closed her eyes, exhaled slowly, picturing him in the SSR office, one of the times she’d seen him, twirling a ring as he spoke. “He had a ring. I suspected that was part of his hypnosis and when I’d arrested him, I took the ring and had it locked it away for safe keeping; putting under another name of Faustus to keep it out of dangerous hands but he still had that ability.” She swallowed hard, staring at the pattern on the quilt draped across her knees. Angie’s right hand slid over the top of her left, gripping it tightly. Peggy glanced at their hands, the corner of her mouth quirking before she continued. “He seemed able to get manipulate one’s thoughts. He was able to use them against you, push you to do his will. He’d done it to Howard the night we stopped him. Convinced him that he was on an expedition that found Steve; for a moment I was almost convinced myself. Howard was on a plane and he assured me that he as there, he was coming home. I brought him back before he could do something truly disastrous.” Her eyes narrowed, palms sweating. She rubbed her free hand on the top of her thigh, trying to dry it, trying to ground herself. She closed her eyes again, focusing on the heat of Angie’s hand against hers, focusing on her breathing. She was on the mountain again, her head heavy body weighed down, the snow chilling her knees. She could hear him, whispering in her ear. _I choked the life out of her._ “He was there, on the mountainside. He injected me with something and I was helpless. Someone strong was holding me down and he said he’d killed you. Choked you to death.”

“I’m right here.” Angie replied softly, squeezing Peggy’s hand for emphasis.

“How do I know that? How do I know that it’s really you?” she felt her head sway. “He had you by the throat and he squeezed until…”

Angie swallowed. “We’ve been through this…” Angie shifted in bed, turning to face Peggy. She put the book on the nightstand and held out her other hand, palm up. “I’m not made up, I’m not somethin’ in your head. You’re not in the chamber anymore and you’re not insane.” Angie shifted closer, covering Peggy’s hand with both of hers.

 

“Then why do I feel like I am?” Peggy asked, genuine fear coloring her question.

“You were in 3F at The Griffith, I helped you get out off the ledge when the G-men showed and you promised to tell me what that was all about someday. I got my brother to stash a getaway car.” Angie continued, her voice cutting into the din filling Peggy’s head. Angie watched the way Peggy seemed to struggle against a tide she couldn’t see. She gave Peggy’s hand another firm squeeze.

Peggy nodded. “I never did get to your brother’s car.” She tugged on a small thread, watching the way the rest of the sheet warped as she pulled. _You are dangerous. No one understands you._ Peggy sighed and leaned back into the pillows, focusing on the pattern underneath her right fingertip. Angie watched Peggy’s expression fog and she felt self-conscious still clutching Peggy’s hand, her thumb soothing against the back of Peggy’s. Hill and Natasha had warned her about this part; where she would question everything despite familiar surroundings, be suspicious of everything. She wanted to pull her into her arms and tell her that the rest of the world didn’t matter.

“What else do I have to do to prove to you that it’s me?”

Peggy chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. “What show were you in that I was late by fifteen minutes?”

“ _Arms and A Girl_. And I was the understudy, so it didn’t matter that you were late.”

“It mattered that I was there.” Peggy replied curtly, a barely concealed smirk on her face. “The name of the man you were shocked was so short.”

Angie chuckled. “Yul Brenner. Y’know, he made it to Hollywood…”

A sad smile crossed her face. “How is it possible that you haven’t aged? I apparently spent some time in a nightmare of a spa but you…you look the same.”

Angie shrugged, suddenly hating the way the conversation drifted. Playing matching games was one thing; seeing the way her face lit up with amusement made her feel like this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. She froze as Peggy’s eyes caught hers. Angie was trapped in Peggy’s gaze, steely and intimidating. She never in all her years managed to match that intensity. It was one of Peggy’s gifts. She broke eye contact and stared at her hands clasped around Peggy’s; whatever comfort she could offer was clearly giving the agent more leverage than intended. “There was something that needed to be done and I was the only one who could do it.”

Peggy nodded absently, watching the shift in Angie’s mood. “Sounds like…”

“What you told me the night you left. Yeah. It’s supposta.” Angie retorted mirthlessly. She released Peggy’s hand started moving out of the bed, kicking the covers away. Peggy’s hand caught her at the elbow stopping her; her grip was surprisingly strong. “It’s late, Peg, you need to get some rest.” Angie said, struggling to not sound as tired as she felt while her body thrilling with the contact while her mind begged for a break.

“What did you do?” she asked, concern in her eyes. She held Angie’s elbow like she was afraid she’d drift away. She knew she was risking the trust that she felt she should have, she had spent all that time in the S.H.I.E.L.D facility trusting only her and when things started falling into place, Angie’s face the only one she could remember and felt comfortable with. She It was her, she knew it, she felt it, but the nagging sense of doubt kept her from truly accepting that this was her reality. Perhaps he had done more damage than she knew.

Angie sighed, patting Peggy’s hand, hoping to get her to release her grip. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Tell me now.” Peggy insisted, tugging at her arm, keeping Angie firmly in place.

“It’s not as easy as you think it is.”

“Please. I deserve that much.”

Angie clenched her jaw, staring out of the window as ran the tips of her fingers against her palms. “I deserve to know why you ran out that night y’know. I’m sure you remember that part.” She replied bitterly, eyes stinging with tears she refused to shed. She turned her back to Peggy, squeezing her eyes tight, willing the anger that bubbled up in her chest to dissipate. It wasn’t Peggy’s fault things were still unclear; it was whatever was done to her. “I know the things are still a little fuzzy and you’re still getting parts of your memory back but…” she shook her head, letting it drop and kept her eyes closed. She could feel Peggy staring at her, the sheets shifting as she moved on the bed. Part of her field training kicked in, she tensed ever so slightly and hands ready to deflect a fist or a weapon. She shifted her feet slightly, preparing for anything. “I went through hell, Peggy. You were gone. You left me what amounted to a Dear John letter in our bedroom and you were gone. You’d been out of the country for five days, that’s the longest you’d been gone without contacting me. Howard said everything was going fine, you’d scoped the place, knew what you were looking for and then he called me a day later saying something went wrong.” Angie brought her eyes up towards the window, watching Peggy’s reflection in the glass.

Peggy was still, sitting on her haunches in the center of the bed, watching her back. She bunched the blankets in her hands, gripping them as she listened to Angie speak. She found herself preparing to defend herself if it went to that point; she could sense it was her Angie but she still feared the worst. Being a spy had done things to her sense of trust in her fellow man. Or woman.

“I went into shock. I didn’t know what to do. I saw you in that thing and…” Angie chewed her lip, balling her hands into fists. Whatever threat she had perceived was disappearing; Peggy wasn’t going to hurt her. She hadn’t in the facility and she wouldn’t here, in their home. “I had all this _time_ to think about what I woulda done different that night. How I woulda made you stay. How I thought I could. I thought about how I thought I was enough and how I knew you’d always loved that life but I was good enough reason to stay safe, stay home. I…I found out afterwards why you went, who you went for...after it all happened.” she shrugged and turned, her chin held high. She felt like she was on stage, pouring her heart out to an audience of one. She’d missed out on a Tony nomination for a show that’d closed with a performance like this; she could remember the lines but didn’t know what the show was. It wasn’t an act; her soul ached.

“I was jealous. I was angry. I thought, how could we have had five good years together and she runs off to save someone else? How could she just run out and leave me behind without so much as a reason for it. How could someone mean that much and would you ever do that for me?” She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. She wanted this. She asked for this. She subjected herself to tests, poking and prodding, blood work, danger and disaster to prove that Howard’s great experiment wasn’t a total waste. She knew what was going to happen, what could happen if ever Peggy was awake and alive in front of her; she knew it was a risk and she knew this was a lot to ask and say but it was out and it needed to be said. _She asked. Don’t let her get you on the ropes._ “I waited a whole year before I could tell Howard what I wanted.”

“What did you want…?” Peggy whispered, studying Angie.

“I wanted to be better.” _than him._ “I wanted to be there when you woke up. So. I convinced Howard to replicate the project. I told him that something was going to happen, you were going to wake up and that someone needed to be there when you did. I researched, I studied, I trained, I worked and did it.” She held Peggy’s gaze, trying to match her intensity. In the lamplight, the moon shining through the mirror, she looked as beautiful as the first night they’d spent in the house. It wasn’t their bedroom, Angie wasn’t sure if she could handle being in the same space just yet but they were practically mirrors of each other. Angie felt her heart stutter start at the softness in Peggy’s expression.

“Angie, what did you do?”

“I had Howard replicate the procedure that made Steve Rogers Captain America.”

The sentence hung between them, heavy with what it meant and the years it carried. It meant Angie had subjected herself to weird science, unknown side effects and danger. It meant that she risked her life to protect her, despite being hurt the night she left. It meant that ran into the gunfight to pull Peggy out of the chamber.

“Why?”

Angie scoffed. “Because I love you and I wasn’t gonna leave you behind.”

 

 

 

            Steve raised an eyebrow at Sam’s right boot on the dash. “It’s a rental.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He dropped his boot down, pushing back in the chair, trying to stretch out in the passenger seat. “I don’t get why we can’t just get a charter flight back…”

            “Barton has the jet. We’re going to meet him midway.”

Sam sighed. “What’s midway?”

            “Indiana.”

“Where’s he coming from?”

“Iowa.”

“Psh, he’s in a jet? Should take no time…”

            “We’re meeting off a farm to keep things low…”

Sam made a face. “Ugh.”

“What?”

“You’ve never seen Children of the Corn.”

            Steve shook his head. “Should I?”

“I didn’t think you were a horror movie guy so I didn’t add it to the list of movies you’ve gotta see…” Sam replied with a shrug, tipping his sunglasses low on the end of his nose and grinning. “It’s not considered an essential, but, it’ll make you think twice about cornfields and little kids.” He gave a mock shiver. They’d been driving south for a few hours to meet in rural Michigan where Clint would pick them up and head back to New York. Barton had some things to tie up back home and taken the jet; he’d always had a soft spot for Captain Spanglepants (Steve’s name on his phone) and agreed to pick them up. Sam was going through the backpack in his lap, fishing out the USB drive they’d found two weeks ago in an abandoned office space where Hydra operated some of their financial operations. They picked up a cheap laptop from a computer center in a strip mall, snacks and hit the road. He fired up the laptop, waiting for it to boot up while studying the USB in his palm.

            “Think it’s a plant?”

Steve made a face. “I know what that is. It’s a USB, not a plant.”

            Sam let out a laugh, the sound filling up the pick up truck’s cabin. “No no I mean…heh, no I mean they meant to leave it behind…” he chuckled.

            Steve shrugged. “They’re leaving serious breadcrumbs if that’s the case.”

Sam stared at the welcome screen, his fingers poised over the keys.  “I mean what if I plug it into the laptop and we explode?”

            “Well maybe you shouldn’t plug it in while we’re in the car.”

“So we should do it in the middle of a field?”

            “We’re not going to do it in the jet…”

“So you thought it’s something else too…” Sam replied, relief coloring his cheeks. Why didn’t you say anything?”

            “It crossed my mind.” Steve replied, his eyes drifting up towards the rearview mirror, headlights behind them as they drove. “We haven’t been followed yet so, so far so good.”

            “That confidence man…” Sam said shaking his head. Steve’s phone vibrated in the cupholder between them, giving both men a jolt. “Jeeze…”

“Would you answer that?” Steve asked, nodding towards the wheel. “Both hands on the wheel…”

            “What a gentleman.” He pressed speaker. “Go for Rogers.”

“Spanglepants!” Clint greeted, his voice filling the car. “Hands on ten and two?”

            “Of course. What’s your ETA?”

“I’m ten minutes out from the location I gave you.”

            “See, told you he could’ve picked us up…” Sam grumbled, shaking his head with mock disappointment.

“Sam, one does not simply do an easy pick up in the middle of downtown Detroit and be subtle about it.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Some pilot you are…” he snickered. He’d been able to SkyHook agents out of hot zones with his jetpack using just latitude longitude and the other person’s trust.

“Hey listen, do you have anything on that jet that can safely open a USB we found?” Steve asked, cutting into the potential pilot pissing match brewing between Sam and Clint. He called them the Bird Brains behind their back, giggling at how clever he could be sometimes.

“Probably. It’s one of the new ones that Tony rolled out…”

Steve made a face. “I don’t know about using anything Tony’s got right now…”

“Ah, is he still sore you and Fury burned down all of his stuff?”

“Doesn’t matter. If this is something that can compromise anything on that jet, I’d rather not do it. We’re gonna drop off the truck at the rental center and make our way over to you on foot. Gonna test out the USB before we do. If it turns out to be nothing, we’ll be safer for it.”

“Think it’s a bomb or something Steve?” Clint asked, barely suppressing the grin on his face. He knew they couldn’t see it, but it was fun knowing Steve still didn’t fully embrace technology.

“Or a tracking device.”

“Tell you guys what, I’ll run some safety diagnostics on the jet, see if we’re all clear and you can test out your new doohickey onboard.”

Steve frowned. “I’m gonna test it by the rental place. That way, if something does go south, we can cover each other’s backs.”

“Oh, so you want me as an escape route and my arrows. Here was I was thinking we’d really bonded…”

“See you in an hour, Clint.”

“Yeah yeah…”

 

They left the keys with the attendant and Steve could hide the smug grin on his face when he commended them on keeping the truck clean. “Most people leave it a mess…You guys are probably the first people who brought it back looking damn near new. Next rental is free on me, anywhere anytime you need it!” he handed Steve a card.

“Don’t be so fulla yourself, Cap.” Sam replied shaking his head as Steve tucked the card in his wallet.

“Manners go a long way, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling as they walked along the street, bags slung over their shoulders. It was late already and the traffic was winding down; if you could call two cars lingering at one stop light traffic. Steve’s eyes swept the area, watching the cars as they moved off in opposite directions, their headlights winding down the road. Clint landed another half mile away and put up the cloaking device. “Maybe we should hang on to it til we get back to New York. It’s been in the bag this long, wouldn’t hurt to wait a little longer.” Sam offered, keeping close to Steve’s left as they walked.

Steve sighed. “You think S.H.I.E.L.D is going to help with this?”

“Fury is. We all are.” He shrugged. “We’re a team. Whatever you need, Cap, I’m with it.”

He sighed again, running his right hand through his hair, shouldering the bag as they walked. “We’re all that’s left.”

“Don’t be such a Debbie Downer, Cap. There are more of us than you know.”

 

 

 

            Peggy stirred as she exhaled slowly. She moved from the mattress, climbed out of bed and stood on the other side, arms folded across her chest. She watched Angie quietly, studying her face in the lamplight. It was Angie. Her Angie. She was different; the light in her eyes still there but honed in like a laser instead of a beacon. She seemed haunted and she could see a few scars that marred the back of her right arm; she recognized them as bullets having grazed her. She’d lost some weight but still seemed solid, sturdy. She was wearing sweats and Peggy recognized the warped neckline of her own sweatshirt on Angie. They’d bought it on a trip to Nantucket the year she’d gone missing; Peggy was trying to make up for a long trip that resulted in a broken right hand and two stitches on the chin that Angie was responsible for maintaining. Peggy flexed her right hand, remembering how awkward it had been pushing back Angie’s hair from her face with the cast.

            “I’m still me, y’know.” Angie said quietly, watching Peggy’s expression. “I can do a little more than just soft shoe and carry a tune is all…” Angie missed that part of herself, the one who was flirty and bombastic, optimistic and naïve. Years made her tough and things that happened made her hard. She knew that Peggy saw her as differently as she felt and she tried to prepare herself for that and as she stood there, watching the way Peggy studied her, piecing her together, she could see that Peggy remembered _that_ girl and was reconciling the past with the present. “I can put together a rifle about as fast as I make a sandwich.”

            Peggy let out a laugh. “You couldn’t possibly beat my time.”

“With what? The rifle or the sandwich?” Angie teased. “I can’t do push ups…” she held up an arm for emphasis. “Girly wrists…”

            “107. One arm.” Peggy replied with a wink.

            Angie let out a watery laugh, blinking away tears. She sniffed and chuckled. “All the super mojo in my body and I still can’t do one.”

            Peggy moved around the bed slowly, noting that Angie left boots by the side of the bed before crossing towards her, inches separating them. “It’s you.”

“Why would it be anybody else?”

            Peggy reached out with her right hand, trailing her fingertips along Angie’s inner wrist, wrapping her hand around and pulling her closer. “I went to find James Barnes. I wanted to bring him home because it meant that I hadn’t completely failed Steve. That day…” Peggy closed her eyes, took a moment to collect her thoughts and opened them again. “I looked at your picture, the one I always kept in my jacket pocket and I wondered, if ever there was a day, who would come looking for me if I were lost?” Angie felt the sting of fresh tears in her eyes. She blinked quickly, watching the way Peggy stared at her as though she saw her for the first time. “The Commandos…Howard…They’d do everything but they’d quit somehow, they’d learn to accept the loss. I learned to accept that I’d lost Steve and while I was staring at the picture I wondered if I’d lost you.” Their fingers interlocked and Peggy swallowed. A spark passed between them and it felt like the first time she’d laid eyes on her behind the counter of the Automat. It was like the time she held her hand under the table at Howard’s dinner party or the time they sat out on the patio with their pinkies interlocked as Angie studied a script and she read the newspaper. It was the first time they kissed and Peggy swore she wouldn’t want anyone else’s lips against hers again. She felt her heart stop. “Guess I didn’t.”

            “English…” Angie breathlessly whispered, letting the tears fall. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried.”

            Peggy turned Angie’s wrists out, studying the veins unaware that her fingertips were leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they ran along her Angie’s skin. She pressed down, watching the way her skin reacted to the pressure, feeling the heat of her body as she ran her fingers and palms against Angie, moving higher up, pushing the sleeves of the sweatshirt as far as the bends of her elbows. Her hands ran up the soft fabric against her arms, along her shoulders before cupping Angie’s face, the thumb of her right hand brushing roughly against Angie’s lower lip. Her heart was racing in a fevered panic, eyes darting between Angie’s lips and her eyes. It was her, despite the nagging feeling of mistrust, the voice she heard insisting that the life had been squeezed from her she felt Angie’s pulse quicken underneath her fingertips, she could see the bubbly aspiring actress flitting around the L&L Automat floor like it was the boards of Broadway, the girl who called her brother and wanted to help her go on the lamb without even thinking about the trouble she’d get into. It was Angie who sang while she did the housework and mended their clothes on Sunday afternoons while she distracted her with kisses and off key singing. The woman who jumped on the beds in the guest room just to make sure the springs still worked. The one who kissed her when she went to work and when she got home and while she slept. The one who picked out the blotter on her desk and the mug she took her coffee in. The one who patiently waited when she went on mission. The one who begged her to stay.

            Her Angie.

            Peggy suddenly moved forward, pinning her to the bedroom wall, capturing Angie’s lips with hers and kissing her. It Angie’s arms wrapped around Peggy’s waist, holding her tight as she let her dictate the pace. It was urgent, hungry and passionate. It was a lifetime of want in one simple gesture. Peggy’s fingers wound into Angie’s hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss as she slowly backed Angie into the wall, pressing closer as wound her arms around Peggy, holding her as tight as she dared. Angie deepened the kiss, her tongue slipping against Peggy's, her grip tightening around her shoulders. She pulled back a bit to catch her breath. Angie's pupils were dilated, her lips swollen and her skin flushed. "You okay?" Angie asked, cupping Peggy's chin with her left hand. "Too much? I'm sorry..."

Peggy shook her head. "No...don't be. I've been dying to kiss you..."

"Who you tellin'?" Angie joked. “I waited sixty years…”

“You’re stubborn.” Peggy said, stealing kisses before burying her face in Angie’s neck.

            “Only got worse when I met you.” Angie said with a chuckle, tears spilling as she held Peggy tight, fingers knotting in Peggy’s shirt.

            “You’re really here.”

            “Yeah I am. Not goin’ anywhere either.” Angie replied with a smirk, kissing Peggy’s temple softly.

 

 

 

 

“Took you long enough.” Clint said by way of greeting, pushing up from the bale of hay he was sitting on. “Thought Cap could run circles around you, Wilson.”

“I was being respectful of the pace…” Sam joked, sticking out his hand for a shake. “Nice to see you too.”

            “Everything work out okay?” Steve asked, nodding towards the jet.

Clint gave a non-committal shrug. “Let’s see your spooky USB device.”

            Sam opened up the backpack and handed the small laptop over, the USB perched on the closed lid. Clint arched an eyebrow as he took it. It looked flimsy as he opened it and plugged in the USB. He grinned; he plugged it in right on the first try. “Stark pay for this hunk of junk?”

            “I did and it’s actually a pretty good computer.” Steve replied with a smirk. “I’m sending him the bill later.”

“We compared three before settling on this one.” Sam added shaking his head.

            Clint opened it, popping the USB in and waiting for whatever came next. “File folder, documents…” Clint read, mostly to himself than to Steve or Sam who were crowding him as he scrolled through tabs in the USB. “Boring.” He clicked. “Boring.”

He clicked again. “Boring.” Another click. “Boring.” Click.

“Clint, c’mon. There’s gotta be something useful on there…” Steve complained, arms folding across his chest as he watched Clint work. “Try to y’know be a little professional about this…”

“Well, most of this stuff is boring.” Clint replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s reading material and I think you’re looking a little more than,” he squinted as he read an email that had been saved on the USB, “the fichus plant on Jacobs’ desk looking like crap.”

“Well…just try to be helpful…” Sam said. “If it’s not anything useful then don’t say anything.”

Clint shook his head and continued working on the laptop. “Oh finally. A folder labeled covert military specs…”

            Sam and Steve crowded closer. “Where?” they exclaimed in unison.

“Nowhere…it’s a joke guys…” Clint replied smugly. “They have encoded files on here though so, it’s not a total waste…” He moved the mouse around, testing out different passcodes to open a zip file. “Whatever is on here is pretty locked in tight.” He said.

            “Try Hail Hydra.” Steve replied, watching Clint type.

“RedSkull.” Steve said.

            “Nope.”

            Steve let out a huff. “Password?”

“Swing and a miss…”

            “Hail Hydra backwards?”

            “Nope…but clever.”

            “Captain America sucks…” Clint spelled out. “Nope.”

“Why would that even be an option?” Steve asked incredulously.

“I’m going to have to change it but I use Spanglepants…” Clint snickered. “Hits the number of letters requirements…”

“RedSkullOne.” Sam offered with a shrug.

“Well wataya know? It worked.” Clint replied as a series of number appeared on screen in a spreadsheet. “This looks like coordinates.”

“Going where?”

            “Won’t know til we plug in the numbers but, it’s leading somewhere…”

            “Probably Hydra bases…”

“So this isn’t a tracking device?” Steve asked, almost disappointed.

“Nope. Looks like the addresses for a bunch of safehouses.” He turned the laptop over to show Steve and Sam. “Pictures of your mom…”

Sam kicked dirt at Clint’s boots. “Easy…”Clint complained, shaking the dirt off his boots. “These are designer…”

            “They look cheap.” Sam deadpanned.

            “I got them on sale.” Clint rolled his eyes.

Steve shook his head and moved away from the two before they could start bickering. He turned through the things they had discovered so far. It had been a few months since he’d seen Bucky and even then, he didn’t look to be in good shape. “The locations we’ve found haven’t been operational and it looked like when they were, they were ready to burn them in the event of an emergency. This could be months or years old. How do we know this is even useful to us?” Steve asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans in frustration, kicking a small rock into the nearby cornfield.

“Only way to know if they’re operational is kicking in a bunch of doors.” Clint replied with a grin. He turned towards the jet, pressing the toggle, dropping the cloaking device. He trotted in, followed by Steve and Sam. He sealed the cabin and made his way towards the cockpit, pulling off his jacket and tossing it into the co-pilot’s chair. “We can be in New York by early morning.” Clint said, flipping the switches and hailing their destination using an encrypted line. “Assuming there’s no traffic.” Steve chuckled, clapping Clint on the shoulder. “Remember the turn signals this time will ya?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

 

 

 

 

            Peggy entered the bedroom and wasn’t surprised that, save for a few cosmetic upgrades like a wireless phone and new lamps Angie had kept it in its original state. Her boots were still on her side of the bed. She didn’t mind the guest room but she felt as though they both needed to just be in the same space again. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching Angie as she tucked in the last of Peggy’s things into the spacious walk in closet. She wasn’t certain she would be able to sleep but she was going to try. Angie shut off the light and climbed under the covers. “It’s alright if you can’t sleep. Don’t be shy about waking me either, got it?”

            Peggy nodded settling back against the headboard.

“Will the light bother you if I keep it on?”

            “Kept it on forever, I don’t care.” Angie settled in and listened to the sound of Peggy’s pen across the page of the leather bound diary she’d stored in the nightstand drawer. She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face as Peggy’s left leg pressed close to the backs of her legs, initiating small contact.

 

_That arm...it nearly bashed in Duggan's skull. It nearly crushed her shoulder. She could feel it winding around her throat, her vision tunneling, fingers scraping uselessly against the metal skin._

 

         Peggy shot up in bed, gasping for air, her body slick with sweat. Angie was up immediately, flicking on the lamp and reaching for Peggy's shoulder. "Hey hey you're okay it was a nightmare you're safe..."

         "Metal arm..." she stammered, gasping as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes were wild and wide as she stared off into the distance.

         Angie froze. "What?"

         "There was a man, with a metal arm...it was...he was strong. I couldn't see him very well. I was in the chamber…he almost killed Duggan."

Angie bit her lower lip, her hands still soothing Peggy's sweat slicked back as she watched Peggy wipe at her face with shaking hands. She’d soaked through the t-shirt she wore. Angie looked around the room helplessly, noticing that Peggy left the notebook on the nightstand, the pen was used as a bookmark. She pulled Peggy into her arms, her eyes still on the notebook as she rocked her. She felt stupid and useless but she couldn’t think of any way else to calm her down. She kissed the top of Peggy’s head, pushing her hair back away from her forehead and humming softly. Peggy latched onto Angie and held on until she fell asleep. Angie gently leaned back into bed cradling Peggy in her arms. She listened to her breathing evening out as she fell into a deeper sleep. Angie lay still, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Peggy’s steady breathing.

This was just getting started.

 

 

 

            Despite wearing his favorite sunglasses, Nick Fury still found himself squinting in the early sunlight, grimacing as he slid into the hidden doorway and down the stairs. His boots made no noise as he descended the metal staircase, coffee in one hand and his magnetic swipe badge in the other. The door beeped, clicked and slowly slid back, granting him access to the facility. He walked the quiet hallway towards his office, opened it and groaned.

            The little red light on his office phone was blinking.

He tossed his key into his pocket, rounding the desk and pressing the button to listen to the encrypted messages.

            “We’re on our way. Details to follow.” It was Steve, he sounded a little more relaxed than usual. Maybe he’d gotten into the liquor cabinet in the jet. Fury erased the message, expecting the man to barge in as soon as they landed. The next message was even more cryptic. It was from Angie.

            “You were right. Look at your messages.”

Fury’s brow furrowed and he turned on his computer, watching the screen boot up. Tony promised that he would look into rebuilding the systems they were using but in the meantime, the current system was operational and probably safer to use. He winked when he said he’d send the bill for upgrades. Fury sipped his coffee and watched lock screen appear. He typed in his passcode and opened his mail. It was slow and irritating. He sat up at the first message in his inbox marked Details.

            He opened it and let out a low whistle.

Angie had scanned Peggy’s book, more drawings and sketches covering the pages, six in total along with what appeared to be a sketch of Barnes’ metallic arm. There were numbers and codes littering the pages, making it seem like a puzzle within a puzzle. “Holy hell…” he whispered to himself as he held down the receiver, pressed two times and secured the line before dialed Angie’s number. She answered on the first ring.

            “How’d that happen?” he asked, tilting his head the same way Natasha had, hoping to spot a pattern.

            “She couldn’t sleep. I figured I’d try and rest up so I gave her a notebook. A few hours later she was screaming and talking about a man with a metal arm. Once I got her back to bed, I looked in the notebook and that’s what I found. What the hell is happening to her?”

            Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “We still don’t know. She’s coming in this week for another test right?”

            “Yeah.”

“How soon can you get that info to me?”

            He heard her moving around in whatever room she was in followed by a muffled sound and a snort. “I can send it over with Natasha.”

            “What else did she say? I need specifics.”

“Thought you wanted detailed paperwork…” Angie retorted, her fingertips trailing along the lines of the page. She’d left Peggy sleeping in bed, closing the door behind her before padding into the study, the journal tucked under her arm. She printed out the scans and tucked them into an envelope. She didn’t want the book to go missing and raise Peggy’s suspicions. She was already missing the warmth of the bed.

            “You leave me a message at 5:30 in the morning, paperwork is the last thing on my mind.” Fury responded flatly.

            “She’d seen him, the metal arm while she was in the chamber. He almost killed Duggan. He was strong, fast and military.”

            Fury nodded out of habit, knowing Angie couldn’t see it. “So it confirms they converted Barnes by the fifties. What else?”

            “He was with someone, she called him Johann Fennhoff. Some SSR rescue in ’46 that went bad. I remember it, I had to cover for her when their Chief died thanks to him. There’s a ring that belongs to him somewhere in S.H.I.E.L.D lock up under the name Faustus. But I don’t remember seein’ anythin’ like that while we were doing inventory.”

            “Could still be in SSR holding somewhere else.” Fury was going through the database, searching through the digital archives for keywords Faustus and ring. Zero results. “Might be a bit to track down. What’d the thing do?”

            “Mind control supposedly. When she saw him on the mountain, he didn’t have it but she had been injected with something and she felt like she was under his control.”

Fury stopped his search and paid closer attention to Angie’s words. “Mind control? How?”

            “Yeah. She said he could hypnotize people, almost got Howard Stark to take out half of Manhattan.”

            “What about that injection?”

“Maybe it was a tranquilizer…I don’t know. For as long as I’ve know her, she’s stubborn and wouldn’t let anyone take control of her like that. She sounded terrified when she was talking about it, like it was just one long waking nightmare.” Angie’s eyes landed on the framed photos of the two of them in an Instamatic photo machine. “Blood work didn’t show anything abnormal either, she had time to marinate with that stuff in her too…” she added bitterly, closing the envelope she would have to deliver to Natasha.

            “Get that to Natasha with anything else you can write down. I’ll call Hill and see if Stark Industries has any of those SSR crates in their basement. Maybe we’ll catch a break on this one.”

            “Are we done?” Angie asked suddenly. “Done done? I got you what you wanted, you got the information, she was there, she saw him, it’s him and Steve is on the right track…”

            “We need to confirm that those are Hydra locations, Angie.” Fury said sympathetically, leaning back in his chair and staring at an open computer screen, Agent Angela Martinelli’s employee photo and information staring back at him. “The both of you are still agents for this organization and the mission isn’t done until …”

            “Until you say it is.” Angie finished for him with resignation.

“Rogers may have something that could take the pressure off of you.” Fury responded helpfully, knowing that it wouldn’t make much of a difference. “I’ll get the details and loop you in.”

            “No. Don’t. I wanna spend time with her and I don’t want to have anything he says on my mind when we talk.” Angie remembered with whom she was speaking to. “With all due respect, sir.”

            “Noted. Romanov will be collecting the information and I expect another debrief when you come in later this week.” He paused a moment. “Excellent work Agent Martinelli.”

 

            Fury wondered if may be he was clairvoyant and instead of the spy game, he should be buying scratchers with his morning coffee. Steve, Sam and Clint arrived two hours after his phone call with Angie and a full fifteen minutes after he and Natasha puzzled out the coordinates Peggy had drawn out. As a rule, Natasha didn’t like lying to people she cared about; marks and targets were fair game but watching Steve as he studied the digital projections of the maps Peggy had drawn out for them, she had to pretend he was a mark and not a friend. She had to lie to him when he asked how they’d gotten this new information.

            “Learned the Dewy Decimal System, just for you, Steve.” She lied with a smirk as she laid out the coordinates that Clint brought up. “Turns out you guys were too clever for your own good.”

            “It looks like it was encrypted.” Clint said, cocking his had to left, trying to decipher the letters and numbers that ran along the edges of the page. “Do you have to fold the page to get the image or something?”

“It was. It’s an old school pictogram, like Captcha for you kids.” Fury supplied, pacing in the back of the room, studying Natasha’s poker face as she watched Steve’s profile. “Or Mad Magazine for you Barton.”

            “How old is this information?” Steve asked, turning towards Fury, his arms folded across his broad chest.

            “Fresh actually. Came in this morning.” Fury replied, his eye flicking towards Natasha, her jaw clenching impassively as she took a seat and gave him her back.

            “From?”

“Outside contractor.” Fury replied flatly.

“Can they be trusted?”

Fury nodded. “We’re going to need to triangulate the closest locations, see what it is they have in common and…”

            “They’re all buildings with deep sub-cellars, like old wartime fallout shelters, bank vaults, cold storage facilities…” All eyes landed on Sam in surprise. “I fly for a living. I get a birds eye view of things. All of them are squat, non-descript, have deep basements…”

            “You can tell all that that from looking topside.” Clint asked sarcastically.

Sam held out his phone with a sideways grin. “Google maps.”

            “Are they operational locations or are they fronts?” Steve pressed. “Everything we found in Detroit was stripped down and burned out. This USB was left behind and this scrap of…whatever it is. It proves Hydra or someone was in there, doing something, we just don’t know what.”

            “The better question is why would they want this kind of property?” Clint asked jutting out his chin towards the large projection screen. “I mean, real estate is pretty brutal but a covert evil organization taking interest in banking and finance…I think I answered my own question.”

            “Pierce said they had arms everywhere, right?” Natasha chimed in, running the tip of her right index finger along her bottom lip in thought. “After we had that shoot out in D.C., Barnes looked fresh and put back together, like I hadn’t unloaded a grenade into his chest and Steve hadn’t thrown a van at him. There has to be something back there…”

            “I didn’t throw a van…” Steve countered with embarrassment.

“Point is, I shot a grenade into his chest and he walked it off. What if there’s a facility back there? Maybe we’re overthinking it and keep bypassing his safe house.”

            “Why would he want to stay in the place where he got his ass kicked?” Clint asked. “I’d be in the wind and coming up with a solution…”

            “He can’t.” Steve said quietly. “He doesn’t know who he is and if we’re thinking about this logically, he’ll stay local until he finds a friendly he can trust…”

            “So we drove around looking at old Hydra bases and finding Blue’s Clues and he’s still in the D.C Virginia area?” Sam asked incredulously.

            “I’d stay where I know I can find someone I trust.”

Natasha shook her head. “He’s in the wind. It’s what I’d do…”

            “We’re not talking about you Natasha.” Steve interjected. “Sorry. You didn’t see him. None of you did. It was _him_ but it wasn’t him. It was like he was under some kind of control…” Natasha and Fury’s eyes met for a moment before breaking away. “He’s going to go back to the last place he felt safe and it’s somewhere near D.C. I’d bet that there’s a facility there where if he can find someone still loyal to Hydra, he’s getting patched and he’s going to come right back just as angry.”

            “Steve, you can’t possibly think that you could do something to fix that…”

“Banner could. Maybe he’s got something that can help…”

            “Look, I understand. He’s your wingman but Steve, we can’t keep chasing shadows here.” Clint began before Steve cut him off.

            “He’s a good man in a bad situation and I promised him that I’m with him to the end of the line. Now you all said you’d help me but it’s sounding like none of you are planning on following through on that and I’m fine with your choice but this is my decision. I want find him, I want to help him and I want to get him out of wherever it is he’s in.” Steve said, the finality in his voice silencing any other objections. “I get it. This is a personal thing but I’d like to think that if any one of us ran into some kind of problem, we’d all rally around and help. That’s how teams work.”  

            Natasha sighed. “I’m still in.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Same here.”

Clint’s eyes darted between Natasha and Sam. “I’ve got the keys to the jet, so…”

 

            Natasha waited until Steve, Sam and Clint left before turning to Fury, closing the door behind them. “He’s going to figure it out. He’s old but he’s not stupid.”

            Fury nodded. “Carter’s LMD is still available…we can probably buy some time if we use her again.”

            “Angie isn’t going to like that.”

“Using her in the first place _was_ Angie’s idea.”

Angie commissioned a Life Model Decoy as a means to help coach Steve through the losses he suffered during the time he was missing. Angie didn’t like to interact with her, a grim reminder of what could’ve been had Peggy just stayed where she was supposed to. They had taken a blood sample and Angie sat with Tony loading in the information necessary to make her as believable as possible. Natasha remembered watching Angie scowling at the way the LMD still managed to flirt with Steve, hiding her smirk behind the back of her hand. Hill nudged her with an elbow.

            Natasha ran her fingers through her hair. “If we do it, we’ll have to palm it off to him that she did it in a semi lucid state and doesn’t remember the details.”

            “Sounds like the actual Carter.” Fury flatly replied, leaning against the end of his desk. “Get her on the phone again. Talk her through it, see what she thinks.”

“I spent enough time with her to know what she thinks.”

“And that is?”

“Whatever gets her and Peggy farther away from this life the better.”

 

Peggy wiped drool from the corner of her mouth, grimacing at the sandpaper taste of her tongue as she slowly opened her eyes. She pushed up slightly off the bed, looking around the bedroom to check for the time. It was a quarter past noon. She blinked a few times and sat up slowly, stretching and yawning before sliding out of the covers and dropping down to do push ups.

Angie walked in, holding a lap tray filled with food an amused smile on her face. “Morning…”Peggy didn’t stop her reps as she peeked over towards the door. “It’s afternoon actually. You shouldn’t have let me sleep in…”

“You earned it. “Angie, I’ve apparently been sleeping for years…” Peggy continued, letting out a heavy exhalation before switching to one arm, a smug look on her face. 

“Well, I tried kissin’ ya but that didn’t work so, I figured lemme make her breakfast.”

Peggy pushed up from the floor, bending her left arm around to stretch out her triceps. “That was kind of you…”

“Least I could do…” Angie shrugged.

“You were up early…” Peggy switched arms, watching Angie balancing the lap table on the bedspread. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, no sweat.”

“You hate mornings.”

Angie rolled her eyes. “I hated mornin’s at the Automat…”

“And now?” Peggy doubled over to touch her toes.

“Now I’m appreciatin’ them, never know when the next one is comin’.”

Peggy straightened up and shook out her shoulders, blushing under Angie’s gaze. “What?”

“I missed you English.”

            Before Peggy could reply, the phone in the study rang and Angie felt a chill pass through her. “Eat up, I’ll be right back.” She disappeared down the hall, the door closing with a soft click behind her. Peggy took a hard-boiled egg from the bowl on the lap table and rounded the bed, watching the door Angie had disappeared behind with interest. She couldn’t hear anything but found it odd that that phone had gone off when in the past, the other phones all went off at once. She looked at the nightstand on Angie’s side of the bed and noticed that it had been replaced with a strange wireless contraption, a blue light blinking back at her. She bit into the egg, chewing thoughtfully as she leaned against the bedroom door, waiting for Angie to re-emerge.

 

            “Why do you wanna use the LMD?” Angie nervously paced around the study, careful to not raise her voice in case Peggy heard her. “I thought we agreed she’d served her creepy purpose and get her decommissioned…”

            Natasha grimaced. They hadn’t had a chance to decommission her; Steve had taken to checking in on occasion. They hadn’t told Angie about that. Natasha hated lying to people she liked. She really did. “We were going through the information today and he saw the scans you sent. I think he recognized the handwriting. We want to tell him that Peggy provided the intel.” Natasha said softly, hating the way it sounded. It pained Angie to watch the LMD age the way Peggy would have had it not been for the chamber; reminded her of a life they weren’t going to have.

            _Damnit Pegs, why’d you have to have such nice penmanship?!_ “Didn’t you tell him it was from a trusted source?”

            “You do remember what’s happened in the last year right?” Fury groused. “We’re almost out of friends.”

“It was bound to happen Angie…you know that. That’s why we had her made, for instances like this.”

            Angie let out a huff and flopped onto the small leather couch, covering her face with her right hand. _You got them on the ropes now, kiddo, what’re you gonna do?_ “What makes you think he’s gonna go to her?”

            “He’s been going to her.” Fury replied, cutting whatever gentle answer Natasha had off.

Angie grit her teeth. _They got you with the left cross._ “How long?”

“Few months. Brings her flowers, they chat, he leaves.”

Angie closed her eyes. If it meant that he’d focus all his time on her, thinking the things he did, the better for it. It meant he’d be miles away from the real Peggy and she was one step closer to finding a way out of the life for good. “Fine. Use her. Make sure you get her to remember enough of that information for it to stick.”

She stared at the phone for five minutes as it sat in its cradle. She cleared the computer and shut it off. She trusted them. She blindly stupidly trusted them with this and this was how they were repaying her. _Why would they want him to know where the information came from? Because he was suspicious of the source, obviously. Why would it matter if it was good solid information, information they wanted at the expense of Peggy’s sanity, information they demanded in exchange for her being released. They valued him more than they valued her._ She leaned back in her seat in disgust. She shouldn’t think that way. They’d risked their lives and careers to allow her the opportunity that was in the next room. _They owe me everything. They wouldn’t have working LMD’s if it wasn’t for me. They wouldn’t have Steve working the way he was if it wasn’t for what I did. Their information and resources would’ve amounted to nothing if I hadn’t stepped in and helped out._ She sighed. _I did all of this for her and they still want her to do more._ She pushed off the couch, shaking her arms and legs out the way she did before an audition. She shook out her shoulders and exhaled a sharp breath before opening the door, startled to find Peggy perched against the bedroom door, a piece of toast pinched between her fingers.  “Hey…”

            “Everything alright?” Peggy asked around a mouthful of buttered toast.

“Peachy. Why?”

            “You look anxious.” Peggy replied nonchalantly.

“Just something’s percolating.”

            “S.H.I.E.L.D things?”

 _OH how the tables have turned._ “Yeah. Nothin’ to worry about really.” Angie said closing the door behind her and crossing the hall. “How’d you like the breakfast?”

            Peggy noted the change in subject and nodded. “Quite filling. What’re you having?”

“I already ate.”

Peggy glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s almost one, wouldn’t that mean you should’ve had lunch by now?” She was teasing her, they both knew it, but it was fascinating to watch how uncomfortable Angie was. She didn’t know how long Angie had been an agent, she should know how to keep her calm. _Perhaps you make her nervous?_ Peggy shook her head.

            “Why’re you so worried about me?” Angie mock whined as she collected the lap table and glassware.

            “It’s what I do.” Peggy shrugged, giving Angie room to clear the doorway. She followed her down the corridor towards the kitchen. “You worry about me, I worry about you…” She watched Angie load up the dishwasher and return the table to a small alcove between the fridge and the pantry. “I thought you’d find that endearing.”

            “I do.” Angie opened up the fridge, pulled out cold cuts and set about making a sandwich. “You know I always worry about you.”

            “Are you worried for me now?” Peggy asked quietly, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

            Angie stopped opening the bread and turned, catching Peggy’s gaze. “Yes.”

“Why?”

            “Because you just got here after being away for so long. I feel like the minute you can, you’re gonna go back out there and…” Angie sighed. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to go back to being an agent or a director or anything.”

            “Then what do you want?”

“I just want it to be Peggy and Angie, like old times.”

            “It isn’t really old times is it…?” It was a loaded question, one that weighed down the room and forced Angie to close her eyes and for the briefest of moments, she found herself wondering if this was a mistake. “Years have passed Angie. You did something very dangerous and…something happened to me that neither of us or S.H.I.E.L.D understand…We can’t really go back to the people we were. We can only be the people we are now.”

            “Who’s that then cause I dunno, I sure feel like I’m me…and you’re still you…”

“We’ve switched sides.” Peggy replied quietly. “You’re keeping secrets from me.”

            Angie let out a fake laugh, the sandwich forgotten. “So you admit you were keepin’ things from me.”

            “I never denied that I did it…”

            “You didn’t have to…”

”I did to keep you safe.”

“Whattya think I’m doin’ then?” Angie snapped. “They weren’t gonna let you outta there Peggy. They were gonna keep you in there, making you take those stupid tests, poking and prodding you until they were good and ready and done with you…”

            “And you think they let you go?” Peggy asked her expression neutral. “You volunteered to do something so reckless and foolhearty…”

            “To keep you safe.” Angie said intoned darkly, the butter knife in her right hand warping as she clenched her fist. “Howard knew, McCord knew, everyone in that building knew. They couldn’t stop me and for a hot second, they tried. Howard tried. McCord tried. People do insane things when they’re in love and slowly they all found their hearts and it made sense. They finally understood what I was askin’ for. Howard married a real sweet girl and McCord died of old age on his farm with a bottle of whiskey and his hunting dog. Til that happened, they had no idea what could happen and they let me do it cause they had no other reason not to. I knew they were gonna give up, they were gonna move on. Everyone who said they’d protect you, they’d fight for you, they’d save you, they’re gone Peg. That left me. We all knew what I was doin’, what I was doin’ was for you. I know they don’t plan on lettin’ me go. I’m valuable to them, maybe more valuable than you are and I’m fine with that because it means that I did the right thing. It means that I kept to my word and I’m keepin’ you safe.”

            “Angie…”

“You won’t ever have to pick up a gun, fight a silent war, get shot at, stabbed or anythin’ because I won’t _let_  it happen. I traded my life to keep you and I’d do it again.” She let go of the warped butter knife and left the kitchen, leaving a stunned Peggy Carter in her wake.


	9. Black Out Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where things start coming together to fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you yearning for Stucky angst, it's coming.  
> For those of you yearning for Steggy angst, it's coming.  
> For those of you who love Cartinelli angst...there's a megaton.
> 
> thanks again for reading

9

Black Out Days

 

            Natasha knocked on the hood of the car Steve was leaning against. He was lost in his thoughts, staring at the toes of his sneakers. He was sitting alone on a bench in the garage. Clint and Sam had gone off to the range for whatever competition that sprang up between them, leaving Steve with his thoughts. He sat with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped over each other, his head resting on his closed fists.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she said, slowly approaching, her hands jammed into the pockets of the leather jacket she was wearing. She looked around the garage; they were alone save for a few cars and equipment.

He looked up and gave her a half-hearted smile. “Not in this economy…” he replied, sliding over and freeing up space for her to sit. “Tell me the truth…that’s gotta be worth more than a penny.”

            Natasha pursed her lips, grinding the heels of her sneakers into the concrete, listening to the way the loose bits of concrete crunched under the rubber soles. “Depends.”

            “On?” Steve raised a curious eyebrow.

“Do you want the truth or do you want something beautiful?” Natasha asked darkly, leaning back into the bench, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Cause the truth hurts and a lie doesn’t work but it makes it all seem like saying something gives it some kind of worth it in the end.”

            “That some kinda riddle?”

“Combination of some lyrics and bad poetry.” Natasha sniffed. “Why do you think I have the truth?”

            “You were watching me while I was looking at the screen.”

“You have a nice profile.”

            Steve cut her a look. “It was more than that. Where’d the information come from?”

            Natasha let out a heavy sigh, almost deflating in her seat. She pushed up, hunched over her knees, staring at the concrete between her sneakers for a moment before looking up at Steve, who was watching her expectantly. “A trusted source.”

            “Who?”

They had Angie’s permission; there was no going back now. “Peggy Carter.” She said neutrally, watching the look of shock that washed across his face. It wasn’t a lie, technically. It had come from Carter, just not the one he was thinking of. “It came in and we figured that it was…”           

            “Is that where the other coordinates came from?” Steve interjected. “From her?”

            Natasha nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “It’s not exactly easy y’know…”

“I know you know I’ve seen her.” Steve said matter of factly.

Natasha clenched her left fist in her pocket. She almost asked “ _Which one?_ ”  “She never mentioned anything about…”

            “Look, I held it from you because I didn’t think it was something you could handle…”

            “How did she have all those coordinates in her memory like that but still forget she’s been talking to me?”

“Alzheimer’s will do that…” Natasha mumbled, becoming incredibly fascinated with a piece of nonexistent lint on her shirt. She shrugged. “You’re the one who told me that she was the British badass. Maybe she had some serious tricks even you didn’t know about.”

            He let out a short breath. “Does Fury know you told me?”

“It was either tell you or let you put two and two together and storm in all mad and righteous. So. Yeah. He knows.”

            “Thank you for telling me.”

“S’no big deal…”

“It is.” He looked around the empty garage. “I’m having a hard time trusting people lately, Natasha. You’ve always been someone I can trust.”

            The corner of Natasha’s mouth quirked into a smile she couldn’t quite muster. “Happy to oblige.” She pat his thigh. “It’s gonna be fine.” She said, more for herself than for him.

 

 

            He was sweating profusely and he’d already chewed through much of the leather strap he’d tucked between his teeth to stave off the shakes and avoid chewing off his tongue. He was doubled over on a cheap mattress, beads of sweat rolling down his chest and back like he was running. It felt like there was a freight train driving full tilt in his skull, smashing through cars, barricades and gas tankers stuck on the tracks. He could hear explosions; feel the heat from the ensuing fireball, the rat a tat of gunfire and screaming, so much screaming. He let out a guttural scream, a plea for mercy to make it stop the strap falling from his mouth as he let out a string of animal groans before it stopped. He was gasping for air, wiping at his face with his hands, fingers slick with a mixture of snot, tears and sweat. He slowly straightened up in the middle of the bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, the silence a blessing after what felt like hours of shaking, sweating and crying. His heart hammered away in his chest. He brought his right hand up cover it, feeling it’s staccato rhythm under his fingertips. He flexed his left hand, staring at the cold metal fingers, sadness replacing the agony he’d just endured. He didn’t know what was happening to him and the fact that every place he tried to find help in was empty was scaring him more than these fits; things were shaking loose in his memory, he was seeing people he knew to be dead and he was seeing things he’d done happening every time he closed his eyes.

            With each fit, Bucky felt like the jigsaw puzzle that was his brain was being rearranged to show him a new terrifying version of himself assembled with the parts of him that made him James Buchannan Barnes. He dragged his objective out of the water and walked away. He walked through some museum filled with artifacts from his old life, images of _him_ and he didn’t know what to do with it. He stayed in Virginia, crashing in an old motel and dealing with the fits. He couldn’t find Pierce, he couldn’t find Rumlow anywhere and anyone who had been associated with Hydra suddenly disappeared. Whatever was happening to him was directly connected to their disappearance. He needed answers.

 

 

 

            _Thap!_

_Thap!_

_Thap thap thap thap!_

           

            Angie’s fists connected with the punching bag, the material straining against the impact. The sting of contact barely registering as she struck the bag, moving around the bag on the balls of her feet, striking quickly, bobbing and weaving like it was an opponent. She didn’t mean to blow her stack at Peggy. She had perfectly good reasons for being concerned. Angie had asked to do this but still didn’t quite get what it made her. She wasn’t some kind of immortal, atleast, that’s what Dr. Strange assured her but he was also a little bit on the nutty side of crazy so she kept their interactions limited. She read through Steve’s declassified records and from what she could tell, they shared serious similarities: quick burning metabolism, increased speed and strength and a fondness for tough as nails British women.

            _Right._

_Left Cross._

_Left knee strike._

_Right elbow._

_Jab._

_Keep moving. Don’t let them see you sweat.s_

 

“You’ll break your wrist hitting like that…” Peggy advised as she let herself into the small gym. She looked around the space, weights, punching bags were stacked to the far right a treadmill across from her and in the far corner was a large grappling mat. Angie stopped punching the bag, holding it still as she caught her breath, watching Peggy enter. “You have to line the knuckles and the elbow through the shoulder then put your weight into the strike.” She stepped closer, eyeing Angie before she swung a vicious right towards the bag, the impact pushing the bag into Angie’s chest. Angie let out a low whistle.

“Gilmore Hodge said he couldn’t breathe right after you socked him.” Angie mused, releasing the bag. “The legendary Peggy Carter right hook.”

“I wouldn’t call it that…”Peggy scoffed. “And any cosmetic adjustments made to Hodge was all my pleasure…”

Angie chuckled. “Most people did. Matter of fact, at Jack Thompson’s retirement ceremony he said that one of his finest moments as a member of the SSR was when he got socked in the face by you.”

“Thompson? Really?” Peggy asked with genuine interest. “What was he retiring from?”

“Being a senator.”

“Shocking.” Peggy deadpanned.

“Yeah…” Angie shrugged. “Howard had a hell of a time with him…” She noticed the change in Peggy’s attitude. She seemed sadder. Angie regretted even mentioning Thompson. The last time she checked, Thompson was well on in his years living in upstate New York, surrounded by his family and regaling them with stories of his exploits. As soon as Peggy had gone missing and he couldn’t account for anything that had happened, he made sure he jumped on the next opportunity that came his way; politics.

“What about Daniel Sousa…?”

Angie swallowed. “Sousa transferred to Washington. Joined up with the Central Intelligence Agency, CIA for short. Howard offered him a position with S.H.I.E.L.D but he was pretty insistent on going someplace else…” She was getting uncomfortable again, redoing the sloppy bun on her head as she spoke. “He was a good man, helped in the search for Hydra bases before he left. Married a woman named Diane, had a couple kids.”

Peggy nodded absently, wandering towards a small bench across the way, taking a seat and watching Angie as she anxiously picked at her palms. It was starting to settle in, the magnitude of it all; everyone she knew was gone and the one person standing in front of her was having a difficult go of telling her about it. She wondered what it was like, watching everyone they’d known move on in their lives, grow, change, marry and live while she stayed the same. It broke her heart watching Angie as she picked at her palms, mumbling something about someone else they’d known, whose funeral she couldn’t attend but she sent a nice floral arrangement for.

“I never really thought of your hands as dangerous…” Angie said, changing the subject as she mopped sweat from her brow with the back of her left hand. She moved closer towards Peggy on the bench, not bothering to make a move to sit. “The legs however…”

Peggy blushed. “I’m afraid I still can’t carry a tune.”

“Still doesn’t matter…” Angie replied with a shrug, shaking out her left hand, flexing her fingers. She let out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry Pegs…”

            “It’s alright.” Peggy replied, waving off the apology. “There is a lot to process and given how I left things, it may be inappropriate to demand…”

            “No it’s not, there’s a lot happenin’ and you deserve to know what’s going on…”

Peggy watched Angie as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweats. They were close fitting and complimented her figure, Peggy found herself temporarily distracted at the sight. The last time she had seen Angie, she was wearing a skirt and sweater, crying and slamming the door. “I can understand why you did it, Angie. It’d be foolish to dismiss what you did and I wish to sound ungrateful.” She reached for Angie’s right hand, cradling it between her own. Her hand felt warm, solid, real. “I mean this from the bottom of my heart. I am truly, genuinely deeply thankful that you are here. I’m not sure I could handle this without someone I trust.” It was Angie’s turn to blush as she brought the hem of her t-shirt up to wipe at the sweat on her face with her left hand. She flushed a shade deeper when she realized Peggy’s eyes were openly roaming her abs. “I’d like to know what you’ve been doing all this time…if care to tell me…”

“Nothin’ too impressive though…”Angie said with a sheepish grin as she shrugged. She held Peggy’s hand, helping her up before leading her from the gym into the hall again and down towards the study. “Did a little redecoratin’ as you can see. I had a hard time sleepin’ for a long time after the whole thing and a lot of energy so I turned that bedroom into a gym.” Peggy studied Angie’s profile as she spoke; despite the obvious change in her, she could still see the sweet waitress in her features. “I lead a few missions with the Commandos to find Hydra bases…”

“You did?” Peggy exclaimed in astonishment. “Howard let you?”

“Yeah…” Angie gave a simple one-shoulder shrug. “I’m not that easy to say no to…” she chuckled. “Duggan called me The Brooklyn Bombshell.”

“He didn’t.” Peggy shook her head. “Always determined to make nicknames stick.”

“Yeah he did _and_ it stuck. He was real fond of Miss Union Jack.” Angie said, glancing down at their interlaced fingers as they walked. “I had a picture of you in a locket that I kept on me every time I went out on a operation…he’d tell me stories about Miss Union Jack.” Peggy’s eyes rolled and Angie let out a laugh as they arrived at the study door. “When they brought you back in the chamber and got you out, he handed me your jacket when they got you out, said it was a good sign that we both had each other on the brain.” She pushed the door open and let Peggy enter. “Also said when you came to, not to tell you that he was bein’ sentimental, somethin’ about you sluggin’ him for it. Said you hit like freight train.”

“I may or may not have hit him on occasion…” she smiled at the recollection as they slipped into the study. The room remained the same as when she had used it, books and photos filling the shelves, a comfortable couch right against the wall across from a fireplace, a battered armchair and a desk topped with a computer. Angie poured two glasses of water, holding out one to Peggy. Peggy took it and crossed the hardwood floor towards the couch, settling in and watching Angie as she downed the water. “How many operations did you go on?”

            “Ten.”

            Peggy’s eyes went wide. “You lead ten operations?”

“Don’t sound so shocked…I learned a coupla things…” Angie replied with mock indignation, pouring herself another glass of water. “It got harder and harder to leave so I just let Duggan and McCord run them while I stayed here and did research, trainin’ and operational assessments. Ran the logistics division for a bit, all fancy research and cataloguin’.”

            “Impressive.”

“Not really. Just used everything you left behind…” Angie said quietly, joining Peggy in the middle of the couch, tucking her legs underneath her, resting her right arm along the back, her fingers toying with the tendrils from Peggy’s ponytail. “I read your journals and notes. You had some brilliant ideas in in there. You and Howard built S.H.I.E.L.D I just kept the lights on and remembered where things were when they were needed. No big.”

            “Angie…you essentially built a government organization from the ground up…”

            “No, **_you_** and Howard did, I just…kept notes. I was the secretary.”

“You were an assistant director. As you say, ‘that’s not nothin’.” Peggy replied, smacking the top of Angie’s thigh mimicking Angie’s accent.

            “You make me sound like Oliver Twist…” Angie said indignantly. “I just did what you woulda done if you were here…and I couldn’t have done it without Howard and McCord’s help. After I stopped runnin’ ops, I spent my time with you, researchin’, readin’. I kept tabs on everyone in your life on the off chance that you’d wake up and want all the juicy gossip. I trained most of the agents that are in the field now and used everything that I’d learned from you. All I did was keep your legacy alive…” She looked at the glass of water in her hand, avoiding Peggy’s gaze. “Just leaving a light on for you to come back…that’s how I spent my time.” She shook her head. “Fat load of good it did. We had to go underground…”

            “I’m sorry I put you through that.” Peggy said softly, her head lulling into Angie’s palm as she continued playing with her hair.

            “Doesn’t matter. I’m not tellin’ ya so you feel bad, I’m tellin’ cause you asked and you should know.”

            “What happened?”

This is where the story was going to get tricky. She could weave a good story, she could tell her the entirety of the truth and strategically avoid Steve’s role in everything or she could just paint a pretty picture, tell her about Steve and see what happened from there. She studied the serenity Peggy’s face as she weighed her options. She hadn’t looked this calm and still since she had been asleep, any traces of stress and fatigue seeming to disappear as they sat on the couch. _She’s yours. She chose you._ “Hydra happened. We were compromised. Thought we had it all sorted but…” _That was easy._ “They came from all sides and completely caught us off guard.”

“Cut off one head two more shall grow in its place…” Peggy intoned gravely, watching the shadow that crept across Angie’s face. “Guess you kept cutting.”

“Cut til we couldn’t keep doin’ it, too many casualties, risks and losses. The director chose to burn what was public facin’ so we all just…scattered to the wind. Funny thing is, we’re operatin’ out of old SSR bases, running ops covertly til we can figure where the mole came from, address it and start over again. Friends are few and far between right now.” Angie shook her head and took another sip of water.

“Seems like little has changed…”

“Same war, new toys.”

Peggy let out a mirthless laugh, tentatively reaching for Angie’s thigh giving the tight muscle a squeeze. Angie felt the weight that was settling on her shoulders slide off with the contact, watching how delicately Peggy’s hand rested against her leg. “I’m proud of you Angie.” Peggy softly said. “For what you’ve done.”

She put the glass down, leaning forward and taking Peggy’s hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles softly. “I know I said I would but…I don’t plan on chargin’ out there again. We’ve got big guns out there that’ll do way more than I can do…I’m here for good, Pegs. We’ve got a lifetime to catch up on and I want to make every day count.”

 

 

 

            _FILE NOT FOUND._

            Steve popped his shoulders as he flexed his fingers over the keys to the computer terminal he set himself up in. He had seen Clint and Natasha use these things often enough to pick up a thing or two. He retyped _Margaret Carter._

_FILE NOT FOUND._

            He pecked out _Peggy Carter._

            _FILE NOT FOUND._

            He pushed away from the desk in frustration. Maybe it was because they hadn’t completely offlined the system, it was hidden behind a firewall or whatever it was they did to files they wanted to keep protected. He pulled out his small notebook and wrote down, _look up what a firewall is._ He tucked the book back into his pocket and pecked out _Carter, Peggy Margaret._

            _ONE RESULT_

“Bingo.” He muttered to himself as he clicked the file, waiting for it to open.

            _FILE RESTRICTED_

“Oh c’mon…” he sat back again, staring at the uncooperative screen before closing out the terminal and pushing away from the desk in annoyance. He made his way towards Fury’s office, determined to get an answer. He didn’t bother knocking, startling Fury as he barged in and closed the door. “Why are Peggy Carter’s files restricted?”

Fury arched a curious eyebrow leaning back in his creaky chair, bracing his palms on the top of his desk. “Old files get restricted.”

“Since when?”

“Since we had Hydra and who the hell else digging around in our files.”

“Whose fault was that?” Steve pressed.

“Well don’t look at me.” Fury replied defensively. “Why are you looking for Carter’s files?”

“Natasha told me she’s the source of those maps and I want to know how long you’ve been using her for intel.”

Fury blinked impassively, clearing his throat before he spoke. “No one is using her for anything. The information appeared, it was turned in and we handled it. Ss for files being restricted, I’d think you of all people would appreciate the extra precautions taken to protect the identities of all our agents. Say someone got a hold of her information and…”

“We had that breach for months. If they were going to eliminate her or anyone else, they would’ve done it already.” Steve firmly interjected. “I want the truth.”

“That is the truth, Rogers.” Fury replied, his tone bordering on hostile. “Carter provided the information and we used it. She was looking for Barnes in the middle of the Cold War, the same way you are now, whatever she contributed to the search was integrated into the system we have. Those old files and notes are buried somewhere else, somewhere that’s not here. We’re plum out of resources and man power at the moment so it’s taking some time to get them together but know that we’re all looking for the same thing.” He held Steve’s steely gaze. “I understand you’re upset…”

“I am not upset. I’m disappointed.” Steve intoned, his shoulders squaring as he spoke. “Y’know, I really thought that you were all being square with me on this and now I’m hearing that Peggy has intelligence you need, files are being restricted and everyone’s sneaking round pretending things are fine when clearly, they aren’t. I’m having a real hard time swallowing the company line of we’re all in this together when Tony had a _very_ public meltdown, had his house blown sky high and blew up a shipping yard while we, what? Watched it happen on TV? We didn’t help him.”

“Stark is his own man and Commander Rhodes assured me it was taken care of.”

“You expect us to march out into danger whenever the situation calls for it but when we ask questions to get the full picture, you back pedal.”

“We don’t _exist_ to anyone anymore, Rogers. What happened with Stark was a matter of national security and if you recall, the nation wasn’t particularly pleased to see us the last time around. We scare everyone. Between you, Thor and Banner, we’re the boogeymen and women, the stuff of nightmares. We’re taking a page out of the bad guys playbook because they actually got one over us. You think I like being in this cave? That I _enjoy_ this creaky chair and this slow computer and this bland coffee? I’ve seen the Avengers HQ, it’s state of the art, top of the world, beautiful view and you know why we can’t use it? Because there’s a difference between what S.H.I.E.L.D stands for, what the Avengers can do and Stark wants to charge rent. We _are_ in this together, Rogers. Stark told me to stand down while he handled Mandarin and Extremis, which, by the way, was unpleasant as all hell to clean up after, thanks for asking. He and Banner are working on ways to keep his _other_ friend in check while Romanov, Barton and Hill are busy doing the things we can’t publically do. Which leaves you, Wilson and your investigation. We’re all pitching in where we can and we are all working where we can and God knows if I had the resources I’d send an entire platoon with you if it’d make you happy but I can’t so we’re gonna have to suck it up and work with what we’ve got.” Fury stood up, the chair pushed back behind him as he held Steve’s gaze. “Am I backpedaling now, son?”

Steve’s mouth puckered. It was the most he’d ever heard Nick Fury speak in the years he’d known him. He really must’ve royally pissed him off. “No sir.”

“Good. Carter’s file is off limits for a reason, as are yours, Barton, Romanov, Banner, Wilson, Hill, Stark and myself. All other personnel have been assigned new classifications and are viewable as a strict need to know.”

Steve nodded slowly.

“I have to protect what’s left my team.”

“Understood.” Steve turned and left.

 

“I hope it’s something fantastic you’re asking me for because otherwise, you’re totally barging in on my date, Cap.” Tony answered, holding his phone in his right hand, his left arm looped around Pepper as they sat on the couch in his living room.

“Must not be goin’ so well if you’re answering the phone. No offense, Pepper.”

“None taken Steve…Nice to see you.” She kissed Tony’s cheek, pushing up off the couch and leaving Tony to his call.

“Pep…I was getting into the seduction phase…” Tony whined, watching Pepper leave the room. “What’s old timey speak for cockblock?”

“I think Fury is covering something up.” Steve answered, ignoring the cheap shot. “He’s restricting files and access to them.”

“That’s not cover up, that’s protocol and uh, if you’re calling me for tech support I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to talk S.H.I.E.L.D stuff with me unless someone covered my fee…”

“Tony.”

“Fine. Fine, waiving it, proceed.” He stood up, rounded the couch and went upstairs into his lab. He placed the phone into a cradle where a 3d holographic image of Steve took up a corner of the room. He clapped his hands together and nodded towards the image before immediately busing himself at his workstation, his back to Steve’s hologram. “Fury, lying, conspiracies, Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster yes, go on.”

“I was looking for an old agent file, Peggy Carter.”

Tony’s hand stilled for the briefest of moments as he soldered a piece of metal, he pursed his lips, tilted his head slightly before looking up at Holo Steve with squinted eyes. “Peggy Carter? S.H.I.E.L.D’s old director?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would you want to pull that file out?”

“They’re mining her for intel.”

Tony made a duck face, returning to his soldering before looking up again. “What kind of intel?”

“I’ve been working on something the past few months.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with the Steely Dan would it?”

“Who?”

Tony rotated his left arm, throwing phantom punches, his brows furrowed menacingly. “Y’know, the brilliantly branded Winter Soldier or Terminator impersonator depending on your view.”

“How do you know about that…?”

“Buddy. C’mon. Clint talks and it’s not like I DIDN’T lose my lunch watching those carries fire at each other and land in huge flaming pieces in the Potomac. Think she was after your friend Bucky?”

Steve nodded grimly. “I do. Agent Carter was working on tracking him sixty years ago. She had some coordinates connected to Hydra that have never been entered in the database before. Wilson and I have been running around almost blind and then they just showed up one day.”

“Not seeing where I can help you there buddy…”

“I want to see her file. The full one. I need to know what happened and I think you can get it for me.”

“Thought you got the file from Fury when you stopped being a Capscicle.” Tony replied, leaning up against his workbench, folding his arms across his chest.

“I did but I think there’s more they’re not telling me.”

Tony sighed and put down the soldering iron, studying the piece he repaired before looking up at Holo Steve. “Listen. Fury has that under lock and key for good reason and tech genius as I am if I go in there again and tinker around looking for breadcrumbs, Hill is going to kick my ass and Pepper is going to encourage it. I want to help buddy, I do, but I can’t. I’m only a S.H.I.E.L.D consultant…begrudgingly.”

“Consider this a consultation job.” Steve said earnestly.

“You can’t afford me, pal.” Tony grinned, patting Holo Steve’s shoulder, his hand disappearing in the image. “Get Nat or Clint to send me the stuff you’ve found so far and I’ll see what I can dig up and get back to you.”

 

Tony was going to have to close out a restaurant in order to bribe Pepper’s forgiveness after he grabbed his keys and sunglasses to run out of Stark Tower. He would’ve used the suit but Jarvis was still having operational problems and he still felt a little claustrophobic in them. He made his way uptown, hoping that he could keep Steve from digging too deep in the wrong thing.

Besides, he owed Angie a visit.

 

           

            “How did you settle on S.H.I.E.L.D anyhow? It’s so clunky.” Angie complained, reclining in the couch as Peggy stretched out her legs across her lap. “The header was a nightmare, all those letters…” she shook her head, her thumbs working into the muscles of Peggy’s calves. “Then you had the insignia…”

            “It’s a combination of the SSR, Strategic Scientific Reserve, homeland and logistics division. Not so difficult to understand.” Peggy grinned, her eyelids fluttering as Angie worked on her right calf.

            “Mhm.” Angie groused.

“You’re holding back.”

“With what? The massage?”

“No. With the world…”

Angie shrugged. “One thing at a time remember? Last night you didn’t think I was me now you can’t keep from touchin’ me.”

Peggy arched an eyebrow. “You’re the one with her paws all over me.”

“I’d never take advantage of ya, English…”

Peggy playfully nudged Angie’s elbow with her left foot. Angie shook her head, chuckling to herself as she pressed her thumb into the middle of Peggy’s foot, eliciting a low purr. “You talk to much.” The phone on the table buzzed, dancing on the hardwood desk Angie’s eyes cut across the room in surprise. Peggy noticed none of the other phones went off. She withdrew her legs as Angie pushed up off the couch and checked the screen on the cell phone. _Tony._ _Could you have lousier timing?_ She put the phone down and turned on her heel, faced Peggy and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry…”

Peggy eyed the contraption in Angie’s hand. “What is that?”

“This? Cell phone. It’s like a radio transmitter but…better.” She discreetly removed Tony’s text from the screen before holding it out to Peggy. The home screen was a digital version of the photo of Peggy that she carried around in her locket. “You can play games on it, take pictures…” She sat down next to Peggy, scrolling through the various apps, watching the way Peggy stared at the gadget in amazement.

“Howard would’ve enjoyed this…” Peggy said sadly, her fingertip scrolling through photos Angie had taken of herself around the city, a small smile on her face.

“Stark Industries owns the patent on the GPS and microprocessor technology…”

“GPS and micro what?”

“Global Positioning System and the brain of the phone. You can navigate anywhere in the world with one of these and still listen to all the jazz you can handle.” Angie said, opening up the music app and pressing play, music filling the room and the rest of the mansion. She smiled as Peggy shook her head. “Someone to Watch Over Me…always made me think of you.” She had to be mindful of the time, Tony drove like a maniac; 20 minutes meant fifteen and three speeding tickets. She let her hand slip into Peggy’s, pulling her to her feet, looping her arm around Peggy’s waist and staring into her eyes as they swayed slowly.

“This is extraordinary…”

“Wait til I show ya Netflix…” Angie grinned, kissing Peggy’s forehead softly. They were roughly the same height barefoot and Peggy couldn’t help but notice that Angie seemed to have gotten an inch taller since she’d last seen her years ago. She tucked her head against Angie’s shoulder, sighing in contentment.

“I didn’t think I’d dance with you…” Peggy whispered, another more uptempo song starting, their movement picking up to match.

“I’m not that good a dancer…” Angie replied, her eyes darting over to the intercom light; it would blink if someone was buzzing at the door and just as soon as the song was over and a new song began, the buzzer went off. “I’ll be right back…” Angie said, kissing her quickly before leaving the room.

Tony was leaning against the doorframe; sunglasses perched on the end of his nose, an expectant grin on his face. “I think I beat my time here. Is that something I should be proud of?” he pushed in, pocketing the sunglasses and giving Angie the onceover as he entered. “Were you busy?”

“Tony…”

“What? I’m sorry.” He pulled Angie into a tight hug. “Forgot my manners…”

“Tony, let’s go outside” Angie said, guiding him by the elbow back towards the front door.

“Wait why? I just got here…”

“I know but now isn’t a good time…”

“It’s important.” He insisted as he stood his ground, positioning his feet so that he couldn’t be moved; Angie simply nudged him harder towards the door. “You old people can be so rude.” He let Angie lead him back toward the door before sighing and pressing his hand together. He took in Angie’s outfit, the flush in her cheeks and the music playing from the speakers he installed for her as the realization set in. The music skipped and restarted before skipping again. “Someone’s here…” He watched Angie’s mouth draw into a thin line of disapproval. “Who’s here? Is this a bad time?”

“Yeah it is Tony, can we just…”

“It’s still really weird for me okay…” he looked around the corners as he made his way into the drawing room shaking his head. “Yoga instructor?”

“Tony…” Angie pleaded, “Why couldn’t you just call me and tell me what was so important?”

“It’s more of a face to face thing…” he replied distractedly, craning his head around. “Is she here? Is she hot? You didn’t tell her this was Stark property did you…”

“Anthony.” Angie growled, startling Tony. “Outside…”

“It’ll take two seconds…” Tony darted towards the other drawing room door leading deeper into the mansion. He shook his head and trotted back towards Angie. “It’s about Cap. He’s asking about Peggy, not Sleeping Beauty Peggy but the one that’s in the retirement home.”

“What about her? Did she break down or something?”

“No…He said something about a map she’d drawn leading to Barnes. He thinks Fury and Natasha were mining her for intelligence and not telling him. Do you know anything about that?”

Angie shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought the LMD’s were designed to work about as well as we got them to work, yes er no questions, complex stuff was after a full brain map…”

“Yeah that’s what I thought but I’m thinking we mapped her brain and maybe in that something else was unboxed…”

Angie let out a huff. “You’re the one who put ‘em together. I just volunteered her for it…”

“I’m sorry…” He said sincerely; he never apologized for anything. “You’re busy aren’t you…” he glanced around again, hoping that his stalling would yield results.

“Why couldn’t you have just called me about it?” Angie asked impatiently, ignoring the apology altogether.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t want to talk about office stuff outside of the office…plus, hadn’t seen you in forever so…Hi.” he waited a moment, wilting under Angie’s scrutiny. “He’s digging around and asking questions and I wanted to personally give you the heads up about it because he thinks that I’m going to help him and blow the lid on my father’s biggest secret ever…We’re in a secret group of cool kids,” he threaded his fingers together between them, holding them up like Cat’s Cradle as he spoke, “per you, dad, Hill and everyone who knows about it, there can’t be anyone else involved…”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said you didn’t want him to know if she ever woke up.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s suspicious.”

Angie shut her eyes in frustration, grabbing Tony again by the elbow and leading him back towards the door. She really didn’t need this right now. “The LMD is active, Fury said that it’s under control, Natasha has eyes on him…”

“I’m trying to protect you here, Ang.” Tony said seriously, all jokes aside. “He’s not exactly the happy camper. He’s pissed. That thing with the heliocarries and Barnes in DC? Hydra operating internally, Fury burning down everything that was built.” He ticked the list off on his fingers. “He dealing with some serious trust issues right now and frankly I’m shocked he even called me to pull up Peg’s file.”

“I designed that folder for him, he has everything that he’d need to know.”

He shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That’s the problem. He thinks there’s more. He tried going through the S.H.I.E.L.D database and everyone’s file is strictly eyes only. He has no access to anything.”

The music skipped again, Angie’s eyes raised towards the ceiling where the speakers were hidden in the corners of walls. It started up again, loud rap music blaring from overhead before switching back to slow jazz. Angie bit her lip anxiously. She needed to get Tony out of the house.

“That’s protocol…” Angie replied, still holding Tony’s elbow, her head cocked to the right. “We were compromised…”

“Doesn’t matter. He’ll go on the warpath. I don’t think any of us are willing to go up against him if it all hits the fan.”

“He wouldn’t.” Angie said quietly, releasing Tony’s elbow. He rubbed it gently; she’d held him tight enough to bruise. “He wouldn’t come after her.”

“He could come after you.”

Angie thought about it for a moment. “He wouldn’t. He’s not the type.”

“You’d be surprised at what anger can do to people…”

“Angie? Is everything alright?” Peggy asked rounding the corner into the drawing room, stopping short in the doorway at the sight of the two of them seemingly conspiring in the room. Peggy’s eyes shifted between Tony and Angie before returning to Angie, her jaw set authoritatively as she crossed her arms over her chest, phone clutched in her hand. “Who is this?”

Tony’s eyes went wide and for the first time since she’d known him, he was dumbstruck. “Holy. Shit.” He turned his head towards Angie in utter shock. “You didn’t tell me.”

“Tony Stark ma’am and let me just say, it’s an honor to not be recognized by anyone in the Eastern or Western Hemisphere…” he stuck out his right hand for a shake. She shook his hand, surprised by the grip.

“Peggy Carter.” She replied, eyeing Tony suspiciously. “Stark?”

“Kinda didn’t have time to send out the formal memo…” Angie swallowed, wishing the ground would open up and take her. “Peggy, this is Tony, Howard’s son.”

Peggy tore her disapproving gaze from Angie and studied Tony. He wore jeans, a pair of black Nikes, a black t-shirt and a red maroon blazer. She could see Howard in him, especially with the smarmy way he’d spoken to her. “You look like Howard…”

“Yeah, well, y’know, apples not falling far from trees and all that…tell me about you though, I’m _fascinated._ ”

Peggy stared at Angie, pressed stop on the music and pocketed the phone. “I think this is a little more interesting than Netflix.”

“Oh what? You didn’t even give her the Netflix tour?” Tony blurted out.

“Really?!” Angie exclaimed. “That’s rich comin’ from you. You coulda just called me and said what you needed to say…”

“What did he need to say?”

“One thing at a time…” Tony said, braving the storm swirling around Peggy, walking around her the way one would when inspecting a new car or in this case, a perfectly preserved woman. “You just, woke up? Like that?” he snapped his fingers before resting the hand under his chin.

“A month ago now…” Peggy replied, staring at Tony the same way he was staring at her; with morbid curiosity and fascination. “Give or take…”

Tony nodded. He ran his tongue along his lower lip in thought. “If I’m remembering my basic Cold War history correctly, they found you in a Russian Hydra base yeah? Woodrow and the Commandos? In some stolen Stark tech?” Peggy nodded. “Pop wasn’t kidding about that cryo thing was he…?” he muttered to himself, before sitting down on one of armchairs, his palms pressed together as he pressed them to his lips as though he was praying. “This is insane. I didn’t think…I mean I hoped it was gonna happen for you Ang really but this…” he shook his head. “This is brain melting.”

“Your father engineered the contraption.” Peggy said, irritated that he was talking about her as though she wasn’t in the room. “I cleaned up most of his messes actually.”

“He and Angie used to tell me stories about you…puts James Bond to shame.” He said in awe. “Hey did you take her out on the town yet? Let me cover the expenses…”

“Tony…” Angie said, putting her hand up to stop him as he reached for his wallet. “We’re still adjusting to everything…”

“Did the intelligence come from her?”

“What intelligence…?” Peggy asked.

Tony’s eyebrows flew skyward. “Uh…”

“The notes that you wrote while sitting with the doctor. The medical team noticed a there was a pattern and it turned out you drew a map that matched coordinates to the factory you were captured in.”

“How does he know about that?” Peggy asked gesturing at Tony with her chin.

“I work with S.H.I.E.L.D. Family dynasty thing…”

“Why didn’t you tell me…?” she asked Angie, genuine hurt in her eyes.

“She was trying to protect you.” Tony interrupted, acting as a referee between the two of them. “It can be, sort of overwhelming learning to live in a new place…”

“I was going to, Peggy. Honest. I just…I wanted a minute to be just us without all this…” Angie pleaded, taking a slow step towards Peggy, her heart breaking as Peggy drew her arms closer. “They’re investigating it and for all I know, it’s nothing and the place has been a crater since you left it…”

“What about the journal you gave me…?”

“I sent it to S.H.I.E.L.D.” Angie replied in defeat. “They’re sending a team out.”

“I want to go.” Peggy said.

“Go? Where?”

“To S.H.I.E.L.D. I want to see what my work has wrought.”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” Tony said.

“They’re already deployed.”

“Well I’m sure two S.H.I.E.L.D agents can arrange for transport and rendezvous.” She turned on her heel and headed back towards the bedroom to get changed.

“Peggy wait!” Before Angie moved to follow, Tony grabbed her shoulder. “I’m gonna call Nat, find out where he is and get him out of there. If she’s anything like what you said she is, she’s not going to be talked down and you can’t have the two of them seeing each other.”

“Get out.”

He let go of her shoulder, watching her leave the room, the phone already dialing Natasha. “I’m sorry Ang…” He let himself out of the mansion, phone pressed to his ear.

“Stark?”

“You need to get him out of wherever he is, ASAP.”

“What happened?”

“I might’ve prematurely conversated…”

“ _Vot der’mo…”_ Natasha swore, hanging up.

 

 

Clint tossed his gym bag into the back of the car. “Good news. One of the locations is in Albany and Wilson was right, it’s a decommissioned bank that,” he made air quotes. “has been decommissioned. Big gnarly basement, probably chock fulla Hydra agents…”

“We’re not going to Albany.” Steve said, checking for nicks and scratches on his shield. “We’re going back to Virginia.”

Clint nodded slowly. “Okkkayyy…let me adjust the flight itinerary…”

“Still think he’s there?” Sam asked, watching Steve load in shield on top of his gym bag housing his uniform.

“It’s familiar to him, he’s gonna stay where he feels comfortable. If those coordinates are right, we’ll land right on top of him and wherever he’ll be holed up.”

“Steve…we kinda knocked them offline too. Why would they keep anything open that close to where they were exposed?”

“The Hydra motto, cut off the head and two more shall grow in their place. They have no morals, they’ll operate a hot dog stand two feet from an assassination. We’re going in and we’re shutting it all down.”

“Oh good, you guys are still here…” Natasha jogged in.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Steve asked.

“Fury wanted to know what the plan was…”

“We’re going to Virginia. You comin’?”

“Oh, no, I have a couple things that I need to take care of here. Besides, you have Sam and Clint…”

“The more the merrier…” Steve offered.

“I hate the way Clint flies.” Natasha joked. “I’ll relay the info. Be safe out there.”

Steve nodded, watching Natasha leave, a nagging feeling gnawing in the back of his mind.

 

 

            Peggy slipped on her shoes, buckling them as Angie watched her dressing from the doorway. “I thought we were past this…”

“I did too…” Angie said.

“How could lie to me?”

Angie scoffed. “Same way you did.”

            “I never flat out lied, Angie.”

            “You’re right. You told selected parts of the truth.” _Just like I’m telling you._ Angie hoped Tony managed to get to Natasha and get Steve gone. She already notified Fury that they were coming and she didn’t want the medical check up, she just wanted them to have a face to face and determine their fates then and there. Angie watched as Peggy tucked the silk blouse into the pants, adjusting the belt before shaking down the entire ensemble so that it fell right. She pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, exited the walk in closet and stared at Angie, their eyes locking. “I didn’t want to just drop everythin’ on you.” Angie said softly. “You’ve barely been here a day and I just wanted you to adjust and get used to things before I told you anythin’. You were having nightmares and…”

            “That doesn’t excuse you keeping something like that from me. Keeping the fact that Howard had a son. That S.H.I.E.L.D was using my notes…”

            “Think for a sec will ya? They housed you for years, they were goin’ to keep you…”

“So you say.”

“I know they would’ve.” She shut her eyes for a moment, praying for a moment of clarity, a moment of peace. “I told you what I did. I promised that I would get any information to them to help in tracking down the man with the silver arm. He’s still active and he’s hurt a lot of people. The condition of your release into my custody was that I help them with that. My only obligation to them was to get whatever I could from you and give it to them. You were my objective. Always. Once they got that, we were done. We were out. We free.”

Peggy stared Angie down. “I was their director once and so were you. We are valuable to them. We are assets to them. It would seem Howard spent time and energy on the both of us and as such, we are required to pay him back for that. We owe him that.”

“I’m not talkin’ about Howard. I’m talking about us.” Angie almost whined.

“Does S.H.I.E.L.D know who he is?”

Angie swallowed the lump in her throat. She was going to lose her. “Yes.”

“Who?”

“James Barnes.” Angie’s vision blurred with tears. _Protect the face, put the dukes up and protect the face._ Peggy nodded slowly, her hands slipping into the pockets of her field pants as she toed the floor with her boot. “The coordinates and information from that operation were incomplete. Woodrow McCord and Dum Dum couldn’t file the paperwork, they refused, so it was left open and the notes that were collected were all filed away. They’re sealed with my file. I had parts of them reopened when I started the logistics research, keeping your condition out and my involvement with Genesis. The current director needed it and as it happened you were awake and…I didn’t want this. I just wanted to protect you. You know I would _never_ betray you…”

“I’m not sure who you are, Angie.”

Angie’s jaw dropped, her eyes welling with tears. Peggy pushed passed her leaving her alone in the room.

 

            He was patient but that mastery was slowly slipping away. He hadn’t slept in two days, felt terrible and his left shoulder was paining him. He grimaced as he watched the lab technician as he sat in the coffee shop, shoveling a stale looking cruller in his mouth. It dawned on him he couldn’t remember the last meal he had. He rubbed his chin with his right hand, the

stubble scratchy against his fingertips watching the way he chewed, trying to imagine what it was like. He recognized fatigue, exhaustion but hunger, that sensation felt foreign to him.

            He stayed hydrated, an empty Gatorade bottle by his feet as he watched from the bus stop, but he never really wanted to eat. He adjusted the collar of the stolen work jacket he wore, keeping it up around his ears, waiting for the tech to get up and leave. He tracked him down using a few Hydra directories that had been stored on USBs tucked into the pockets of his tattered fatigues. Why he had them, he had no idea, he just knew how to use them and so he did.

            David Strucker.

            He wondered if he was connected to any of the old guard from ’45. He didn’t care. He just needed the pain in his head to stop and his shoulder to be attended to. He watched David as he stood, tossed a few crumpled dollar bills onto the counter, adjust the collar of his jacket and walk out of the diner. He licked his lips in anticipation. He liked this part. They either fought him or they were so panicked they gave up altogether. It was the unpredictability that made it fun. He watched as David made his way up the street, hands shoved into his pockets, head bowed as he passed the bus stop. Bucky waited a moment, stood and tailed behind Strucker, hands out of his pockets. They were walking in sync, pace evenly matched as they weaved through the early evening crowd. He followed his shoulders, watching as he made a sharp right continuing on the sidewalk. Bucky sped up rounded the corner and walked past Strucker. He felt eyes on his shoulders as he walked; he was good. He stopped suddenly, pulling over to tie his shoelace, hazarding a glance over his left to see if Strucker was moving again. He walked along, casually flipping through his cell phone as he approached. He stopped alongside Bucky, still staring down at his phone as Bucky stood, his left hand anxious to grab him by the back of the neck and shove the gun into his ribs.

            “Hail Hydra.”

            Bucky had never been more relieved in his life. He didn’t bother reaching for the gun tucked into his waistband.


	10. Burn My Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SUPER super sorry for the delay in updating this!!!! Life got in the way and I've been cranking away on my mobile to send notes and edits to myself.
> 
> I've been getting your kudos and notes and feedback and funneling it into this chapter and the next which I hope you'll love because you've been super great to me.
> 
> There are a few notes: some reference to Age of Ultron (tiny possible spoiler) some in-depth exploration of what we didn't see post Captain America: The First Avenger and a side mission with some violence and bloodshed. I did serious research into golden age Marvel (Zola, Faustus and a few things) to make sure I was lining up some timelines. 
> 
> If you haven't seen Age of Ultron GO SEE IT! 
> 
> also, YAY SEASON TWO OF AGENT CARTER MY FEEEEEELLLLSSSSSS
> 
> (scrappaperscribbles.tumblr.com)

10

Burn My Shadow

 

            David led Bucky down a narrow corridor, whistling as he walked. He kept his hands visible, keenly aware of how anxious Bucky was behind him, his eyes darting around as he followed. “You’re much more impressive in person.” He said over his shoulder as he stopped in front of a non descript door, swiping a key card and bumping it open with his hip, turning to face Bucky with a tight smile.

            Bucky stared at him.

“Not very talkative. I can see why Pierce was so fond of you.” He held the door for Bucky before continuing into the lab, slipping off his jacket and hanging it from a nearby rack.

            “Where is he?” Bucky rasped, his throat tight. He blinked a few times, hoping to mask the growing anxiety; he worried another fit was coming and he didn’t want to give this man the upper hand. It didn’t matter if he was an ally, he still didn’t know him well enough to trust him.

            “Pierce? Dead.”

Bucky began breathing heavily out of his nose. The objective must’ve killed him. He failed at his mission. His throat constricted and he swallowed hard. _You know me. I’m with you til the end of the line._ He shut his eyes his stance wavering and he felt himself tipping to the left, his shoulder suddenly weighing a ton. David moved quickly and slipped a chair under him just before he fell over into the wall. He pulled a penlight out from his pocket, shining it into Bucky’s eyes. “You’re having a panic attack.” Bucky’s jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he tried to control his breathing. He shook his head no, his eyes wide as he struggled to breathe. “Yeah, you are. When was your last treatment?” Bucky’s body began trembling in response. “Been a bit. I don’t have the chair but I have the serum if that’s what you want.”

Bucky nodded quickly, the tremors jerking his movements.

“Breathe through it. I’ll be right back.” He pushed up from his kneeling position and headed farther into the lab as Bucky felt beads of sweat forming on his upper lip. He pulled out a leather glove from his right pocket, panting as he pried his jaw open with his left hand and jammed the glove between his teeth. He let out a throaty yell, doubling over as his body revolted against whatever had been done to him.

_He was in a cold chamber, staring at a gray slab of concrete wall. He had two options, staring at the wall or sleeping; when sleep was boring, he was staring at the wall and vise versa. They opened the door, walked him to a chair and a man with startling blue eyes spoke to him about objectives. They fitted his shoulder, treated him with liquids, put in a mouthpiece and shocked him. He never remembered anything after that._

_He remembered the man who’d insisted on knowing him._

_Seen his face._

_It was him._

_The one they called Captain America._

_The light to his dark._

“You alright?” David reappeared, a capped syringe in his left hand.

Bucky looked up with watery eyes. “No.”

 

 

         Angie’s heart slammed in her chest when she finally arrived to the drawing room. “Peggy?!” she called out, realizing that the door was just closing. She ran towards the door, grabbing her keys, quickly locking it up and running out towards the elevator. She sprinted through the lobby, past a very surprised doorman and out onto the sidewalk where she found Peggy standing stock still, staring up at the skyline she didn’t recognize.

         “Peggy…” Angie approached her slowly, noticing that her eyes seemed impossibly wide as she took in the traffic, the people and the bright lights that lit up Midtown Manhattan. Angie took a hold of Peggy’s elbow hesitantly, guiding her back towards the door. “This is why I wanted to take my time…you missed a lot.”

         “It’s…different.”

         “C’mon back inside, we can talk…”

         “Is that Times Square?” she asked quietly, squinting down the street.

“Yeah, it is.”

         “We are quite far from the theater district.” Peggy muttered dryly, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared off.

         “I lived.” Angie replied with a smirk. “C’mon, let’s go back upstairs…we can talk…”

         Peggy turned, slipping her elbow out of Angie’s grip. “Is that diner still around?”

         Angie’s shoulders slumped. “I’d have to get my wallet…”

“Then get it.”

         Angie watched the resolve in Peggy’s stance. "You can't give me the slip, Peg. Just, come upstairs, let me clean up just a second, get my wallet and we can go to the diner.” Angie said in exasperation. She knew the doorman was watching in the lobby. She hoped he didn’t have a mind to call Tony and tell him his tenants were having a lovers quarrel in the middle of the Upper West Side.

“Do I have a tracking device somewhere?” Peggy asked bitterly.

“No, you don’t…I…” Angie stepped closer, aware of the way Peggy immediately shrank back. “Things ain’t the same around here.”

         “I can take care of myself.” Peggy scoffed

         “Don’t I know it.” Angie retorted. “Look, I didn’t get a chance to eat today so unless you wanna scrape me off this street, you’ll atleast come upstairs with me sos I can get my wallet and then you can run the rest of the evenin’.”

         Peggy couldn’t help the little spark in her eyes as she regarded Angie as impassively as she would a suspect in custody. _The Brooklyn Bombshell. How can I be cross with her?_ “Fine.” Peggy said, strolling back into the lobby, passed the still confused doorman and pressed for the penthouse elevator. She had to admit, it was still quite impressive that Howard managed to keep the elevator and the entirety of the penthouse completely private. She folded her arms across her chest, watching the numbers tick away overhead. Angie darted past the doorman, flashing him an apologetic grin; he shrugged.

         Angie arrived just as the door opened and they stepped into the cab, Angie pressing for the penthouse. “I didn't call them to tell them you're comin’, so you don't have clearance. You're under my custody."

         "Then call and tell them I need clearance, Madam Director." Peggy said smugly.

         "I’m not the director anymore."

         “You still have some clout yes? If I'm to be of service to S.H.I.E.L.D the least they can do is formally brief me." Peggy replied haughtily, watching Angie with that same penetrating gaze as the elevator chimed the arrival to the private floor.

         "I can do that." Angie said more to herself than to Peggy as she exited the cab and approached the front door, keys in hand. Peggy breezed by her arms refolding across her chest, standing defiantly in the drawing room, jaw set. "Then please, Agent Martinelli, proceed." She said pointedly, acid dripping in her tone. "Agent Peggy Carter, reporting for debrief."

         Angie almost threw up.

         “Fine…”

         She slipped off her sneakers and padded into the into the drawing room and a holding court in front of Peggy, her lips drawn into a thin line. "Over the past three decades, SHIELD has become the top covert organizations in the world. In recent years, SHIELD has seen an uptick in activity deemed too dangerous for other branches to address. In 2008, the CEO of Stark Industries, Tony Stark, was kidnapped and held for ransom. He liberated himself from his captors using mechanized suit that he built from scraps. He publically admitted that he is a hero operating under the name Iron Man. Later, a hammer was found in a New Mexican desert, where astrophysicist Dr. Jane Foster and her team would meet a man named Thor Odinson. He is the Norse god of Thunder, we just call him by his first name.”

         “A Norse god?” Peggy breathed, watching Angie quietly, trying to figure out of she was pulling her leg.

         “A scientist named Bruce Banner came of interest because of his research in gamma radiation and particle research." She watched Peggy as she spoke, her eyes widening in astonishment with each revelation. "Banner after being bombarded with the radiation, transformed into what we have only come to describe as The Hulk. Natasha Romanov came to us after the end of the Cold War. She was a survivor of the Red Room...you'll recall Dottie Underwood was a graduate.”

         “How…?” Peggy couldn’t remember if she had ever mentioned Dottie to Angie and the knock down drag out fight they’d had.

         “She brought Natasha to us.” Angie finished simply. “She is currently an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D. Clint Barton is a sharpshooter who's preferred weapon is the bow and arrow, he is highly decorated and volunteered to join the Avengers Initiative as we called it, a team assembled by current S.H.I.E.L.D director Nicolas Fury.”

         “And you had a hand in this?” Peggy asked quietly, sinking into her seat, regarding Angie in a whole new light.

         “I helped put ‘em together, yeah. Personality tests, skills, ability to follow directions…same parameters you set up for requirements to join. Like I said, I just followed the notes.” She allowed herself to enjoy the look of awe in Peggy’s expression. “S.H.I.E.L.D is more than just a spy organization Peggy. We've become a global force. We are the ones they call when things aren't goin’ so hot. We do the things we wouldn't have an agent do. That team are part of the Avengers Initiative, a highly researched and carefully selected group of men and women we deemed fit to serve in the highest positions within S.H.I.E.L.D's hierarchy."

         "We." Peggy murmured.

         "I have confirmed kills and close investigations at 97% rate, highest since you were here. And I was on the board."

         Peggy's mind was reeling. "How was it possible?"

         "We took the impossible cases and made them work." She shrugged. "We only wanted the best of the best, we took them for the Avengers Initiative. We built out teams across the board in every sense of the word. The rank and file, agents who go out on the field, we have scientists, researchers, doctors, lawyers, super powered beings. It worked. Other times it was tough. Naturally there was stuff we didn't anticipate, like portals and aliens comin’ through em in the middle of Midtown.” She snorted at the memory. She watched the sky open up on television; she and Peggy were out of town, Angie wanted to spend time in Banner’s cabin, hoping the fresh air would clear her mind. She remembered watching Chitauri pouring in, canon fire and the lightening, Banner smashing everything in sight. She remembered Hill calling and telling her she picked a hell of a time to leave the city.  “We responded. International terrorists, we responded to it. We were everywhere. Then we were nowhere. Hydra infiltrated our ranks. We're still working on that part."

         "And what purpose do you serve if you're no longer on the field or a director?" Peggy asked, completely realizing how insulting the question sounded to her own ears. Angie was gracious enough to not let the hurt show.

         "Logistics. How do we cover up something, address it without endangering anyone else...what to say when words are sure to fail."

         "Are you using that on me now?"

         Angie let out a bark of a laugh. "If only. Pegs, I wanted to get you first before I dropped all of this...I didn’t want to keep things from you but, you weren’t really you for a bit. Then you kissed me last night and…” Angie sniffed and rubbed the back of her neck with her right hand. “I just wanted time with you, before the whole…” she waved her left hand around, grasping for words. “ _thing_ came crashing back into our lives.”

         “That _thing_ is the reason we’re here isn’t it?”

         “We had a helluva time with Barnes..." Angie flopped down into a nearby armchair, her body drained of whatever air of authority she had held for the moment. Her stomach rumbled; she had almost forgotten the diner. "Hydra had him carry out some of the nastiest things in American history. Including Howard's death."

         Peggy's eyes narrowed. "How?"

         “Tampered with the car…” Angie said sadly. “Simple as that. He’s credited for damn near impossible to track assassinations, embassy attacks…he’s a one-man army. When S.H.I.E.L.D was dismantled, he was at the front of it, almost killed three of our own in the process.” She remembered seeing Steve in the safehouse, waiving off any assistance from the doctor. He’d been nearly beaten to death in the Helicarrier. Natasha had been shot in the shoulder in the middle of the street, while Sam narrowly escaped face planting into the side of a building. “We need to stop him before he takes us all out.”

         “He hasn’t attacked since?”

         “No.” Angie faltered. She couldn’t bring herself to say his name. “One of our agents may have put him out of commission for a bit but that don’t mean he’s not out tryin’ to find more Hydra agents.”

         “And your agents are out looking for him? Do they know what they’re up against?”

         “Course they do. It’s what we’re trained for…” Angie said, taking a small point of pride in the fact. “You saw him in his earliest stages…He's dangerous and he’s only gotten better with time. He’s got resources and people willin’ to fight with him and probably for him if he asks em…”

         “These Avengers, have they come close to him?”

         “Just Romanov.”

         Peggy nodded thoughtfully, chewing her lower lip. “I’d like to meet her.”

         “She’d have a blast meetin’ you…” Angie replied with a small smile. “Lemme get freshen up a bit, get wallet and we’ll head to the diner, alright?” Angie stood up and left the drawing room, aware that Peggy was watching her every move. “Back in a jif.”

         Peggy listened for Angie’s footfalls on the floorboards before she stood up and left.   

 

         The breeze felt like magic against Peggy’s cheeks as she walked farther away from the building, her hands jammed into her pockets as she made her way towards the diner. The neighborhood hadn’t changed much; parking was still terrible, the cars themselves strange shapes and brilliant colors, families still let their children run up and down the block as far as they could before they sprinted back, giggling. Every so often someone breezed by her, their heads tilted down as they stared down at an illuminated screen, completely oblivious to the things around them. Her hand wrapped around Angie’s phone in her pocket. She couldn’t imagine being attached to the thing the way the people around her were. It was bizarre. She pulled it from her pocket, studying the screen with interest. She swiped up, unlocking the screen and an old jazz song drifted from its tiny speaker; she had never closed out the music. She paused it and returned to the main menu, looking at all of the tiny icons that made up the screen, hovering over the wallpaper image of herself. She pressed an icon titled Gallery and scrolled through, her thumb moving through image after image Angie had taken around Central Park, flowers in a vase, her own feet in a grassy field. She stopped at one of Angie in a mirror, wearing Peggy’s brown leather jacket, a soft white t-shirt and black jeans. She looked like she had been crying, her eyes red and cheeks blotchy. Her thumb lingered too long on the image and a pop up bubble appeared _photo details. April 9_. She had taken the photo on her birthday.

         Peggy’s slow pace stopped at the sound of traffic and looked up from the screen that had dominated her attention. She stood on the corner of Madison Avenue, completely stunned with the number of restaurants, café’s, shops and _people_ out at this time. Ms. Fry would’ve suffered a meltdown at the sight of so many young women in groups out, drinking, smoking and cavorting with the rabble. She may come to like this place. She heard footfalls behind her, like someone was running and she turned to see Angie running full sprint towards her. She was almost a blur as she slowed up. Peggy tried to not stare at the way she hadn’t broken a sweat or panting.

         “Pegs…c’mon…I can’t have you just…” Angie gaped in horror. “What if something happened to you…”

         “It’s 8:30 at night and this city is as alive as I remember…”

         “I wasn’t keepin’ this part from you…”

         “Didn’t imply you were…” Peggy turned and looked around again, still in awe at the sight of it. “I’d still like a refresher if it’s all the same to you.”

         Angie held out her arm, masking her disappointment at Peggy’s polite decline of the offer. Angie stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans, waiting and watching the traffic drift by them. “You’re not really forgivin’ me are ya?” she asked with a defeated sigh, the light changing allowing them the opportunity to cross.

         “I understand the logic.” Peggy simply replied, staring ahead, fully aware that Angie was staring at her with those big green puppy dog eyes she’d always loved. “Method needs work.”

“You wanna teach me?”

Peggy smirked as they met at the curb, stopping at the corner, paces away from the diner and turning to face Angie. They regarded each other in the glow of the full moon and streetlights, eyes roaming faces they had missed, analyzing the parts that had aged in the smallest ways; crinkles and deep laugh lines, slight shadowing under the eyes from sleepless nights that drifted into long restless mornings, dragging into terrible afternoons back into sleepless nights.

Angie watched the way Peggy’s expression softened as she watched her; she could see a lifetime passing underneath the streetlamps. Angie spoke first. “I wasn’t to lying to you, Pegs. I told you that. I could only handle one thing at a time, first thing was always you, second thing was whatever S.H.I.E.L.D wanted and then the last…” she shrugged. “I didn’t really have a proper list, just tasks that needed completion.” She immediately realized how that sounded. “You’re not a task though…”

         Peggy ignored the gaff. “Tell me inside then…”

         Angie led the way into the diner, holding the door for Peggy before taking the lead again, heading towards a quiet booth in the back. Angie had fallen into the habit of either ordering or eating alone in the diner and gave Ellie, the waitress, a small nod. She was already setting two glasses of water and a pair of menus at the table when they arrived. Peggy sat, the aged pleather creaking underneath her as she settled into her seat. “The Avengers...you assembled them?"

         Angie couldn't help her chuckle. "Yes..."

         "What's so funny?"

"Tony says that sometimes. Avengers assemble...it's like a weird slogan." Angie shook her head.

“I see.” Angie rolled her eyes. “For a genius, he’s a flippin’ idiot just like his father.” She studied her menu intently; fully aware of the way Peggy was staring at her over the top of hers. She felt herself wilting under the scrutiny of that famous stare. “He didn’t know. Except for the people directly involved, I didn’t tell anyone that you’d woken up. We’d all been keeping tabs on your progress…He considers us family...”

“What do you consider him?”

Angie’s eyes flicked up from the menu, holding Peggy’s gaze. “Family. An idiot, but family.” She clenched her jaw for a moment, leaning back against the pleather bench and sighed. “He’s not as bad as he used to be.” Ellie reappeared and took their order. Peggy ordered a deluxe cheeseburger, onion rings and the shake much to the wide-eyed surprise of their waitress. Angie shrugged. "With a figure like that you can eat anything." she said with a wink. Angie had to swallow her tongue and kept her meal simple; steak and eggs.

When the waitress left, Peggy took the moment to take a sip of her water, feeling the weight of Angie’s gaze on her.

         "You still charm waitresses" Angie remarked when the woman was out of earshot.

         "Seems it only worked on one." Peggy said smoothly. 

         "You sound disappointed."

Peggy blushed. "Only needed it to work once."

Angie's eyes narrowed. Peggy was flirting with her. She tried to mask her amusement by looking down but she knew the tips of her ears were scarlet with embarrassment. This was hard. She explained most of what happened operationally and Peggy accepted what she had been told but Angie couldn't shake the sneaking suspicion that Peggy thought there was more she wanted to know. She didn't want to ruin the romance that seemed to be blossoming again between them. Especially considering that they'd spent the night in the same bedroom, Angie barely catching a wink as she cradled Peggy against her, terrified that it was all just an elaborate dream. She could feel deep brown eyes trailing along her face, admiring her the way someone in love studies the object of their affection like they’re some kind of miracle.

"What else did I miss?" asked Peggy.

“I told you most of it. If you want the full historical rundown I’m gonna have to hand you an Almanac cause I can’t tell you what we covered up and what was actually released to the public.”

“That’s…disconcerting.”

Angie shrugged. “That’s the life I wound up in.”

“Because of me.” Peggy said sadly.

Angie shrugged. “I chose it. I’d choose it every single time.” Angie replied earnestly.

Ellie returned with Peggy’s milkshake, placing it in front of Peggy and disappearing again. Angie followed her retreating form with narrowed eyes, lips pursed in thought before she brought her attention back to Peggy. She studied Peggy as she stirred her straw in the thick vanilla milkshake in front of her, the froth spilling over on one side. She took another pull, mouth puckering with effort, cheeks sucked in before she smacked her lips together in appreciation.

"I wouldn’t ask you to do that." Peggy mused as dipped the ice cream coated straw back into the glass, bringing it to her lips. It was a distraction.

“You wouldn’t have to.” Angie replied simply, pouring out more water for herself.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me what they wanted?”

“I wasn’t sure what they were lookin’ for and like I said, I wanted to have you for myself. They wouldn’t let you out until I promised to get whatever I could from you, whatever was deemed helpful.”

“What are they looking for?”

Angie swallowed. “No idea.”

“Angie.”

“Peggy, I don’t know.” She hoped she put enough conviction in her response to get her to drop it or at the very least, move onto something else. “Hydra, I guess. I haven’t been in the field in a long time…”

“Do you trust them?”

It was something that had been bothering her the longer she spent time in the current version of S.H.I.E.L.D. Fury and Coulson were dead for anyone who asked; she had to scrub files clean to ensure that nothing was compromised and Fury made sure the team attended Coulson’s funeral. It was a dirty business they were in, covering things up, burying other things and telling themselves that it was for the greater good. It was safer if things that needed to be lost were, things that needed to be buried stayed there and things that needed to be handled were done so as quickly as possible. The organization Peggy and Howard built on the principals of protecting and serving the country had gone somewhere; the black and white world giving way to shades of grey that got everyone involved dirty. Even when Natasha spilled S.H.I.E.L.D’s secrets online, fully aware that it was all calculated, that the things that were going to be out in the world were just a small piece of the machine, she couldn’t help the feeling of relief that washed over her; if the organization was blown, then she could leave with Peggy and they’d start over. She had a sizable amount of stocks, bonds and cash stored across the country and across the globe; they could go anywhere, be anyone and S.H.I.E.L.D couldn’t find them. Fury always made it seem like it was possible; he didn’t really understand either of their value and if truth were told, Angie was certain Fury was afraid of the both of them. “Yes.”

Peggy regarded Angie for a moment, repeatedly dipping her straw into her milkshake before taking another attempt at a sip. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

“Why?”

Peggy leaned back as Ellie returned with their plates. She waited for the waitress to clear earshot before speaking again. “You wouldn’t want to keep me away from them if you did.”

 

 

         Bucky snatched the syringe from David’s clammy grip, eyeing him as backed away slowly. He pulled the safety cap off with his teeth and injected himself, watching the fear slowly slip away from David’s features. He capped the syringe and leaned back against the wall, the serum immediately rushing through his system.

         “Better?”

         Bucky shrugged. “Can you fix this?” he gestured with his right hand towards his left shoulder, the gear making a metallic groan with the action.

         “I can take a look yeah.” David said, waving his arm towards the lab. “For a second there, I thought you were gonna use that on me…”

         “Still time for that.” Bucky replied flatly, eyeing the equipment in the lab. It was a high-end doctor’s office. He felt his lip curl. This guy was low end Hydra, like a dentist who’d sacrificed a virgin to the Hydra gods to have his student loans completely cleared before graduation. 

         “We’re friends here.” David replied nonplussed as he guided Bucky towards the rear of the facility where a large steel door ended the hall. “I have to get a few things first, just let yourself in there.” He pointed towards the steel door, fully aware that Bucky was palming the syringe as casually as one palms a coin. He turned and entered another office, flicking on the light and loading up a tray. Bucky’s gaze returned to the door. He shifted his weight and felt the weight of the tucked into the holster against his lower back. David could be afraid of serum but he wouldn’t have to be if he decided to plug him with the Glock.

         He opened the door and found an exam table, lab equipment and overhead lights that hadn’t been switched on. He was glad the chair wasn’t there; he hated that thing. The serum he could tolerate, it made the aches and pains easier to tolerate and prevented the jumble of thoughts that assaulted him from completely unmaking him. He swallowed hard as he approached the table, taking off his jacket, hoodie and peeling off his grimy t-shirt. The space felt familiar but he didn’t know if he’d ever been in this room before, seventy years of being a lab rat could do that to a person. He scooted onto the table, the paper crinkling underneath him. He rolled the syringe between his palms, staring down at the toes of his scuffed up boots.

         _“Congratulations Mr. Barnes and welcome to the United States Army.” He looked up as the doctor, a grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat’s across his face as he shook his hand. He felt smug. Of course he was gonna pass the physical, he was a specimen to be studied and admired. He smiled and slid off the table, reaching for his button down shirt and folder. He couldn’t wait to tell Steve…_

         “Alright, I’m gonna need you to lay back.” David’s voice cut into Bucky’s thought, startling him. He almost jammed the syringe, cap and all into the man’s left eye. “Easy it’s me…”

         “Knock.”

         “I did.” David replied quickly. “I thought you powered down or something. You were staring at the floor…”

         “Fix this.” Bucky said gruffly, reclining onto the table, extending his arm, the metal creaking.

         “I’m gonna have to put you under to take it off…”

         “No you won’t.”

“You sure?” he examined the arm in fascination. He’d read up on all the research for biomechanical machinery but he was convinced that out of all of the pieces he’d read, the Winter Soldier’s machinery was by far his favorite. “I mean, I can give you a full on tune up if I can just…”

         “Less talk, more fix.”

         “You got it.”

         Bucky heard the sound of water running, the snap of latex gloves and the heavy masked sigh of David Strucker as he prepared the first of several anesthetic shots. The needles jabbed into the part of Bucky’s shoulder that wasn’t mechanized, the bite reminding Bucky that despite the alterations done to him, he was still human. His skin began to tingle and he felt as though ice was running down the left side of his body. The thought nagged him; feeling human when clearly he wasn’t, not entirely. He was still James Buchanan Barnes. People who knew him called him Bucky. He called himself Bucky sometimes. He had no idea where that came from. His eyelids felt heavy all of a sudden. “What did you do…?” he mumbled, his body not responding to his want to move off the table.

         “Less talking, more fixing.” Strucker simply replied.

The last thing Bucky heard was the sound of metal against metal.

 

 

 

Pete squinted at the computer screen, scrolling through it again, the pen he’d held between his teeth falling out and clattering onto the desk. He scrolled again before pulling the binder with Peggy’s blood work out from it’s near permanent place on the desk. He flipped through it, hard copy from her initial blood work back when she’d joined the SSR and comparing it to her latest blood work. This wasn’t good. This was what he was worried about.

            The levels were wrong. There was something floating around in her system that hadn’t appeared as an anomaly because they hadn’t had enough to measure it against. They’d taken an old sample from the Life Model Decoy Angie had commissioned, the sample having been from Peggy’s original blood; it was their baseline for measurement. He’d have to run more labs on this current sample before he could make Director Fury angry about an emergency call.

            “Hey, do me a favor…” he called to Sarah, his lab tech, “pull the list of psychotropic and synthetics for me, will you? Everything we’ve got on hand.”

“Sure….” She asked, peering over his shoulder at the screen. “What’s up?”

“I think there’s something wrong.”

            “Like what?” she asked, squinting at the data on screen.

“Well, there’s a chemical compound that’s breaking down or has broken down in her blood.” He tapped the down arrow on the keyboard, cycling through each piece of data.

“I’m gonna have to call Fury.”

Sarah’s eyes went wide as she handed the file over before stepping out of the lab. He really didn’t want to call him but he needed to let him know now before it got out of hand. Fury answered on the first ring.

“Sir.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a compound of some kind in Carter’s system.”

            “What kind of chemical compound?”

            He shrugged. “I’d need to isolate it and run a few more tests but it looks like a neuro-tranquilzier of some kind, something that would dull parts of the brain that control independent thought. You’re awake, aware but you’re just, there, like a zombie. Waiting. I’m pretty sure it’s burned out of her system but I won’t know til she comes in…”

            Fury leaned back in his creaky chair. “You mean a mind control serum.”

“Something like that. I won’t know until I can isolate the compounds but it seems like Carter was exposed to the first battery of treatments…”

“You ever see anything like that before?”

            “No…If I’m not overstepping my pay grade, sir, can I ask when is she due in for a check up?”

“Next week.” Fury exhaled and shook his head. “Soon. Pete, I don’t have to state the obvious and say to keep this to yourself. Run those tests, get back to me.”

            “Sure thing boss.”

 

 

            Tony cracked his knuckles, the tips of his fingers hovering over the hologram keyboard on his desk as he stared up at the holo screen, the Stark Industries logo staring back at him as he contemplated breaking into his own secure server to find an old SSR and S.H.I.E.L.D merger files. He remembered walking Angie through the digital transfers but she was insistent on keeping the paper files on record. He thought it was charming, watching her scan each piece of paper, return it t because you could never be so sure to a folder, seal it and drop it into another box. He felt terrible having blown the thing open for her but it was something that needed to be done; he shuttered to think what would happen if Steve discovered it.

She had asked him to keep Genesis a secret and he had grown up hearing stories about the legendary Peggy Carter from his father and her apparently enamored roommate. _Girlfriend you moron, Peggy’s her girlfriend._ He ran his right hand over his chin, fingertips thoughtfully along his sculpted goatee as he debated the pros and cons of overriding his own security systems; he could potentially tip off Hill and that would lead to a long awkward conversation between Hill, Pepper and Fury just because it was always more fun when everyone jumped in. _Tony you swore you’d be hands off on this. Tony, between this and your Ultron program…Tony you’re an asshole._ He could hear Pepper chastising him even as his fingers flew over the phantom keyboards, seeking Faustus’ ring, uncovering data on Project Genesis and burying anything else that could tip Steve over the deep end.

He eyed the time on his computer before Pepper rang. He grit his teeth and hit accept, a hologram appearing behind him as he continued working.

“Hey honey…”

“What are you doing?”

“Just…playing Minecraft. How’s work?”

“Tony.”

He cringed, his fingers retracting from the keyboard before turning in his seat, his portable downloading the information and deleting everything from the Stark S.H.I.E.L.D database. “Yes Pepper.”

“What. Are. You. Doing?”

“Checking the security parameters, you know, you have to change the passwords every two to four weeks and my calendar said it’s about week three so I figured…why not, y’know?”

“Tony.”

His shoulders slumped. “Yes honey.”

“Why are you deleting files from the system?”

“Deleting files? What? That’s insane I would never…”

Pepper stared at Tony in disbelief. “I was gonna call you.”

“No you weren’t.”

He rocked his head side to side before standing up. “Are you eating? You look thin…”

“Don’t change the subject. What are you doing?”

“Helping a friend.”

“Is it Steve?”

“Yes.”

“Why all the secrecy?”

“Because it’s a _trifle_ bit bigger than Steve.” He sighed. “Are we secure?”

“Yes, you know we are.”

“Well, paranoia and all that…” he waved his hands around as he paced the room. “She’s awake.”

“Who’s awake?”

“Peggy.”

Pepper’s eyes bugged. “What?!”

“Yeah. Angie didn’t tell me because apparently it’s a semi new thing that’s happened in the last week or something like that…anyway, Steve’s been digging around because he thinks Fury and I are lying about things…”

“Well, he’s not wrong.”

“Not helping.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “I guess Bruce and I have been distracted with the whole Ultron project…Pym isn’t helping either so I ‘ve been a little distracted and might’ve missed the memo…either way, Peggy is awake and apparently filled with all kinds of juicy tidbits for the spy set.”

“Like what?”

“She has coordinates for Hydra bases across Europe. I mean, super deep old school Cold War era bunkers and stuff. It’s all,” he clicked his tongue, “locked up tight in her head.”

“How’d she wake up?! When?”

Tony shrugged. “She just did. Angie set up the retro room and Peggy basically dismantled it.”

“How is Angie?”

“Pissed at me.”

“What else is new.”

“Hey…” Tony warned.

“Doesn’t answer why you were poking around in the server like that.”

“Yes it does.”

Pepper folded her arms across her chest.

“A ring that was locked up in ’46 under the name Faustus. We have _anything_ in the labs under that name?”

“I’d have to look. Why?”

“It’s connected to Peggy and Steve. Like I said, old school Cold War spry stuff.”

“Wouldn’t that be Angie’s department?”

“Yeah. She doesn’t remember classifying anything with that name or description and there’s nothing in dad’s archive either.”

“Did you ask Jarvis?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes and he’s still looking.”

“What about Friday?”

Tony grimaced. Friday was the back up protocol he had created when Jarvis started going on the fritz. She was assistive AI based on Angie; smart resourceful and sarcastic. “You don’t like Friday.”

“I do. She reminds me of me. She come up with anything?”

“No.”

“You didn’t even ask her.” Pepper deadpanned. “Where’s Peggy now?”

“With Angie, probably getting the whole rundown.”

“Does she know about Steve?”

Tony bit his lip. “That’s the thing…she can’t know about it. We have the LMD in place remember?” Pepper nodded. “He asked me to look into why Fury has Avenger files on eyes only basis and I told him something that sounded vaguely professional just to throw him off but I know he’s either going to Natasha, Barton or someone else to see if they’ll try their hand at it and all I want to do is make sure that my buddy doesn’t get his heart stomped on for something that he didn’t have any say in.”

“Which was?”

“Genesis.”

Pepper nodded grimly. “Howard’s last project.”

“He can’t know that anyone else did that and he can’t know that Peggy has been under for as long as she has and popped up just like he did. That’s Angie’s request.”

“How long do you think you can keep that up?”

“I’ve been asked that question in a different circumstance before…”

“Tony.”

“Sorry…” he waved off the comment and watched the data stream. “I can pull it off. He’s already pissy as it is, so all I’d have to do is push his energy elsewhere...”

“Like?”

“The Winter Soldier program? I dunno.”

“Is that still a thing?”

“It is for him…Look, honey, I’m sorry I was breaking into my own security system to delete everything and continue the horrible lie a friend of mine is living in. You coming home soon?”

Pepper shook her head in disapproval. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Oh good. I’ll see you then, yes?”

A red bar appeared above Pepper’s head. _Incoming call: Maria Hill._ “I’ve gotta go, Director Hill wants to yell at me.”

“Be nice, I like her.”

“I’m always nice..”

 

 

            His vision was terrible, blurring into blobs and streaks of colors before slowly transforming into a flat matte wall. It was a ceiling, white and bland in its simplicity. He could hear everything, the sound of someone washing their hands again, metal against metal as it was stacked into something he couldn’t see, someone humming MMMBop while they worked. He blinked a few times, his mouth tasting like sour cotton as he licked his dry cracked lips. He let out a low groan as he adjusted himself on the flat surface; paper crinkling underneath him as he moved. “The hell…”

            “Oh, you’re awake.” David chimed, loading in the medical supplies into the autoclave and pressing a few buttons. “Thought you’d sleep for a bit.”

            Bucky groaned, pushing up onto his elbows. “Is it done?”

“Oh yeah, sure, done. Sorry I mighta knocked you out…I just figured it’d be easier. The damage to the shoulder was pretty extensive.”

            “What did you do?”

            “Re-enforced the rotator cuff, allowed for 360 mobility without having to shift the joint out of its socket and I also allowed for a better crush rate, so, you have as much PSI as a mechanized load lifter. Only on one side though, couldn’t get the distribution across the body the way I’d like to.”

            Bucky sat up, rotating his entire shoulder, the motion more fluid than the thought possible, knuckles popping into place as he flexed his fingers. David shrugged, surveying Bucky’s wordless assessment. “I do what I can.” He leaned against the small countertop watching as Bucky sat up, slid off the table and reached for his clothes. “What if I told you there was more to this than you think?”

            “Don’t care.” Bucky replied gruffly, pulling his shirt on and adjusting the hem. He didn’t bother looking at David as he spoke.

“Forgot, you’re not a talker. So I’ll do the talking. I have a batch of fully ready to go soldiers, all operational, all waiting for the perfect leader to continue Hydra’s work.”

Bucky stopped dressing, turning at staring down David as he stood against the counter top, the table between the two of them like a safety barrier. David smiled. “I piqued your interest. Let me continue. I have men and women who have submitted to testing, who are ready willing and able to work for you. For Us. For Hydra. All I have to do is tell them you’re here, tell them you’re ready and that’s it.” David pushed off the countertop, watching Bucky with growing fascination. The man barely moved as David spoke, his eyes locked onto his, daring him to move. “I know what you did, with that carrier, to Captain America. We’re almost done with Hydra’s work. S.H.I.E.L.D doesn’t exist and whatever is left are easy pickings; they’re disavowed, cast out. We can take the fight to them.” He watched Bucky as he slipped on his hoodie and jacket, adjusting both articles of clothing as David spoke. “We can finish this.”

            “Don’t care.”

            “Can I have atleast, 30 seconds of your time?” David asked, his palms pressed together in supplication. “Maybe a full minute.”

            Bucky grunted; David took it as a yes. “Okay. That serum? It’s a concentrated form of the serum you’ve been given since entering the program. It’s designed to subject the person to immediate response within 90 seconds of exposure; in your case, you’re basically wired as soon as it’s administered. What does all this mean? It means that I can inject people and make them answer to me, to us, immediately. They’re drones, they’ll do anything and everything we say. Think of it, an entire army placed everywhere we need them to be, ready at a moment’s notice.”

            “Where’s Captain America now?” Bucky asked, ignoring David altogether.

            David gaped for a moment. “Don’t know.”

“Then how can you tell me you can finish him if you don’t know where he is?” Bucky asked evenly, zipping his jacket, the fingers of his left hand delicately doing the job. It disturbed him that he could see the fingers and movement but couldn’t feel the zipper between his fingers.

            “We can use people I told you about, the agents of Hydra ready for you to use.”

            “I don’t need bodies, I need intel.”

“I can get that for you…”

            “Then get it.” Bucky rotated his arm a full 360 degrees, flexing the fingers and rolling his right shoulder. It was working much better than he thought it could; he hated being in debt to people. “Don’t call me til you do.”

 

 

          Angie chewed thoughtfully as she contemplated Peggy’s comment. She swallowed, licked her lips and put down her utensils. “I made them test on me. The serum. I made Howard do it. I made him replicate what he could and I read every scrap of paper I could find. I learned a lot Peggy. I crammed more information into my head than I ever did in school. They were doing everything they could to find Steve and even lost some funding because of it. I kept you alive and they let me stay there without really pushing the issue. I trust them as far as I can throw them."

         "If you're as super powered as you say you are, that's quite a feat."

         Angie's mouth quirked as she ate. "They had every opportunity to take me out. Take you out. They didn't take it."

         "And do your loyalties lie with them or with..."

         "S.H.I.E.L.D. Peggy. You can say it. I trust them. I trust what the mission is. After all you and Howard built it."

"No, you did." Peggy corrected. “Don’t downplay it.”

"I told you, I just kept the power running and the bills paid. I trust anything you say. Call me naive but I always have."

Peggy stared at the French fry on the tines of her fork. “How can you say that I can trust them when they managed to get you to lie to me?”

  1. “I didn’t lie.”



“Didn’t you?” Peggy replied pointedly. She popped the fry into her mouth, chewing as Angie struggled to find her words.

“I wasn’t keeping this from you. I told you that…You gotta admit, the whole, Avengers thing is a lot to stomach…then there’s the cell phones and the internet and…it’s a lot…” Angie replied, rubbing the tines of her fork against the steak, watching the grease as it raked against her utensil. “Imagine I just sat you down after you got here, still not trustin’ that I wasn’t Hydra and dumping all of that on you…” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Pegs. I’ll call them in the morning, first thing, and we can go in and talk about everything.”

“I want you to tell me everything.”

“Everything?” the word felt heavy leaving Angie’s lips.

“Yes.”

She cut into her steak, popping it into her mouth and chewing. “Alright.”

 

 

            Steve watched the lights disappear below them, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. He was going to take the risk and investigate Virginia on the off chance that he was right; Bucky would hole up in the city that had been taking care of him versus coming to a city he would be a stranger in. Sam sat across from him, retying his shoelaces, humming to himself.

            “Do you trust the mission?” Steve asked suddenly, turning from the window towards Sam.

            “S.H.I.E.L.D or this one?”

“All of it.”

            “Well yeah. Barnes is M.I.A. We’ve got to bring him home…”

“Even if S.H.I.E.L.D was proven to be ineffective.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D was only ineffective because Hydra got in there; the mission stays the same, the players are there and the goals are still there. Why?”

Steve sighed. “It’s tough.”

“It’s what we signed up for.” He regarded Steve for a moment. “Are you still in it?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D or this?”

Sam chuckled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “All of it. If you’re having a crisis of faith while we’re locked and loaded to rain holy hell on someone in the middle of another state, I need to know that as soon as possible so Barton can turn around and we can go home.”

Steve nodded. “I’m good. It’s gotta be done. It’s the mission.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“And we’re not raining holy hell on him. We’re bringing him in as peacefully as possible.”

“Maybe you and I have a different definition of ‘bringing someone in.’ Do you not remember how he treated us the last time we were in that area…?”

“I do. And I know that isn’t him.”

Sam shook his head, leaning back in the seat, going in to therapist mode. “What if it is? What if that’s who he is and the mission isn’t to save him but stop him? Can you do that?”

Steve pressed his palms together, triceps flexing against the fabric of his shirt and for the briefest of moments, he thought he would actually rip the sleeves. He looked down at the toes of his boots before looking up. “If it’s the last resort, yes.”

Sam held Steve’s gaze before nodding and pushing up from his seat. “I’ll follow you wherever you go Cap, you know that.”

Steve nodded, leaning back in the chair and staring out of the window again.

 

 

            He was almost settled in, eyes focused on the sky as he gripped the belt strap between his teeth. David had left him with much to think about, two more vials of the serum and a trundle of weapons. There were two drones downstairs, positioned in a car, keys in the ignition, ready at a moments notice. David had programmed them to sit up, wide awake in the car, cell phones charged and numbers programmed into the phone he tucked into Bucky’s hoodie pocket. They stared straight through the both of them as David instructed them to stay in the car and await further instructions.

They gave him the heebie jeebies.

            He had an uneasy feeling, the air felt thick with something he couldn’t put his metal finger on. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves. He was adjusting to being a mercenary, a man with no name, no country, no affiliation; this is what it meant to be forgotten by everyone. Hydra was dead, their agents scrambling to find places to hide while S.H.I.E.L.D systematically hunted them down and eliminated their existence. Leviathan had been dead for years; the last remaining loyalists pledging their lives and bank accounts to Hydra while A.I.M stayed out of the fray enough to keep them out of S.H.I.E.LD.’s radar. He’d worked for all of them at one point or another; one wanted an assassination, one wanted a quick and clean kill, another wanted a clean steal he was the one who answered. He didn’t know what he would do now. He didn’t see himself as someone who would share any kind of kinship with David Strucker despite sharing a last name with a man who was high up on the Hydra food chain in Sokovia. He sighed.

            He missed it.

            It was exotic. It had intrigue, suspense, and things that would keep him busy. He wasn’t resentful that Pierce had commandeered his services, he was glad to be back in the good ol’ US of A but he missed Europe; he’d had a good time there. He was the vicious left hand of Hydra. He’d been the one to take out S.H.I.E.L.D’s best agent, tossing her into a box just like his and nearly killing her rescue team. That had been a real thrill; teaching them all a lesson.

_That’s not you. That’s them. They used you. You knew her. The woman in the red dress. This isn’t who you are._

He squeezed his eyes tight, his muscles coiling as he braced for another fit. Strucker’s serum had already burned through his system. He clamped the belt strap between his teeth, cursing Strucker as his body seized.

_You’re gonna shine through, you’ll see._

The radio he placed on the rickety table crackled to life. “Sir, we have contact.” He pushed up off the couch with a sigh. He opened up the trundle and pulled numerous clips out, checking his ammo and the silencer on the guns. He closed his eyes, counting down to ten before attaching everything to his person. He checked the communications wig in his right ear as he rolled his head on his shoulders. This was the mission. He exhaled. Emerging from the apartment doorway, he simply said, “Copy.” And closed the door behind him. Maybe he was paranoid but he could’ve sworn he heard a jet engine and voices.

He was in a safehouse, how had the found him? He sighed, rolling his shoulders and leaning against the wall, staring up towards the stairwell, safety off and weapon ready. Strucker better not be blowing smoke up his ass about these operatives. He knew they were all over the place, humming like little bees waiting for an assault. The though unnerved him; _you’re the lead drone you know._ He squeezed his eyes tight, waiting.

 

           

“Are you sure a late night raid is what we need right now, Steve?” Clint asked, checking the tips of his arrows as Steve strapped his shield to his back. “Considering it was a three hour flight and all…”

            “You can stay with the jet.”

“And miss all the fun?” Clint rebuffed with a sneer. “Please.”

“Then quit complaining.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“Sounded like complaining…” Sam replied, adjusting his goggles on his forehead with a smirk. “Belly aching actually…”

“Quit sucking up.” Clint groaned, hitting Sam’s shoulder and heading towards the drop door.

“It’s not sucking up…you’re whining, it’s terrible…” Sam chuckled, following Clint out of the drop door.

Steve checked the screen; they’d landed on the roof of a building held by Hydra; it seemed abandoned for the most part but the readings showed proof of life. He slipped on his helmet and strode out behind the bickering Barton and Wilson; if Bucky was here, he was going to find him.

 

 

            “Just like that? You can get anything you want?” Peggy asked, her eyes wide in amazement.

            “Yeah, just about. They’re still workin’ the kinks out but you can order something online and it’s there in like, a day, it’s amazing. Still knocks me out.”

            Peggy shook her head. “And this…Amazon, it has anything you could think of?”

            “Just about and if you can’t find it, there’s tons of ways to track it down.” Angie grinned, reclining in the seat as she finished off her water.

            “It’s a wonder.”

            “It is.”

“Tony mentioned Netflix…”

            Angie’s eyes lit up. “It’s amazing. Just about every kinda movie you can think of and television shows…Peg…there are some amazing movies on there that’ll knock your socks off…” she waved Ellie over scribbling in the air for the check. “They’v got all these television shows too. I’ve been watchin’ one show you gotta watch. It’s like havin’ all the radio shows happen straight in one day insteada waiting…”

            “Sounds exciting.”

“It is, you’re gonna love it.” She slid out of the booth, meeting Ellie halfway with cash.

 

 

“What’s it looking like?”

“Like an abandoned building…” Clint rolled his eyes, sighing as he watched Sam and Steve maneuver onto the opposite rooftop. He readied his arrow, firing and sliding across the zipline to join them. “And doesn’t he have an x-ray vision thingy on those goggles?”

“I do but you keep tellin’ everyone how good you are…” Sam replied with a shake of his head.

“I can’t see through walls…” Clint groused, as he pulled open the rooftop access door, Steve leading the way followed by Sam, weapon drawn. He pulled up the rear with his boy and arrow.

“Can you fire that thing around corners?”

“Hell yeah I can…”

“Both of you put a sock in it.” Steve warned, squinting against the darkness as they descended, the waning moonlight offering no help.

Clint and Sam exchanged amused looks before switching on their flashlights and following Steve. “It’s a little too quiet here…”

“That’s not an invitation for the two of you to keep babbling…” Steve remarked, stopping short as two men emerged from the shadows of the stairwell. “You were saying…?” Steve rammed his shield into both of them as Clint and Sam raced down the stairs and right into more armed guards.

 

 

            Natasha drummed her fingers on the desktop, watching the sat-feed of the three men as they made their way through the building. She leaned forward, eyes widening. She regretted not going.

A small army was closing in the team.

“Hey fellas. You’ve got visitors.”

Steve’s right arm shot up, his shield connecting back to his right forearm. “Talk to me Natasha.”

“I’m counting six coming from the south end and not sure but the east looks pretty busy too…aerial is spotty. I’m seeing a lot of heat signatures, looks like a swarm.” She quickly keyed up the quinjet’s auto defensive systems, moving the ship from it’s holding position and across to over cover.

“Told ya you shoulda come along.” Steve replied, hurling his shield into an incoming pack of drones.

“Told you, hate the way Clint flies.”

“You do know I’m right here, right?” he chimed in, firing two arrows off into the melee, vaulting over a particularly burly body. He used his bow as a club, smacking the aggressor across the face.

“Steve, listen to me, there’s movement down on four.”

“Bucky?”

Natasha winced. He was so determined. “No idea but I’d start heading down there.”

Her phone buzzed nearby. Her eyes flicked to the screen. _Tony._ She muted her comm and pressed talk. “Kinda busy playing Galaga buddy.”

“Is he out on the field?”

“Yeah, we’re working on something…”

“Did you stay put?”

“Yeah. Tony…spit it out.”

“The Faustus ring is missing. All the data on it, encrypted, paper, whatever, missing. I think during a breach we were robbed. Well. S.H.I.E.L.D was.”

“So the ring is in play?”

“Looks like it but I don’t think the power is in the ring, but whatever it is this guy could do was documented by, get this, Dr. Zola.”

Natasha bit out a swear word.

“Don’t let Steve hear that kind of language…”

“Zola. He was the AI we found in the old S.S.R. base. How’d those two know each other? Ah crap, hang on.” She switched her comm back on. “Guys, I’m gonna start raining hell, there’s another group coming. Who the hell are these guys?”

“No don’t! We can’t open fire on them!” Steve commanded as he swatted down two drones and swept the legs out from a third. “They’re unarmed!”

“And they’re coming at you guys like that?”

 _“Sounds busy…”_ Tony offered from the speaker.

“We’re subduing them…can you still see the hostile on four?”

“Still waiting for you…”

“Great…” he tied down the three hostiles to a railing. “Sam, get to four, Clint…”

“Yeah, I got it!”

            _“So I guess now’s not a good time to mention that Zola, Barnes and Faustus are all connected and I suspect they were trying to hijack our dear friend much in the same way Barnes was taken?”_ Tony impatiently asked.

            “What.”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re digging up. Turns out Zola and Faustus or whatever his real name was were roommates. Someone busted them out and they started developing the Winter Soldier program. Looks like phase one was started while Cap was still in Germany and they finished it after the war, once the S.S.R and Allied forces were done clearing up the place. Nasty business. Kinda surprised pop lasted that long honestly. Look, this is the last thing I want to do, especially when it comes to him so, once you get the files I have, I’m out, okay? I can’t be between them and him.”

“Nice to know you think I want to be in the middle of it.” Natasha replied bitterly, her thumb itching to hit the stun gun and fire through the already damaged windows. The soft, plink of an encrypted message arriving on her phone drew her eyes from the screen for a moment.

“Nat, he doesn’t really _get_ me at the moment and honestly, I really screwed the pooch with Angie…I just…I’ve got to figure out a couple things. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up.”

She grit her teeth. If Tony didn’t want to be in the middle of this, she absolutely didn’t want to be in the same room when it all fell apart. “I’ll let you know how it turns out.” She hung up, returning her attention to the screen, watching signatures moving around, bouncing from place to place.

“Hostiles neutralized.” Clint said, panting as he strapped his bow to his back, crouching to get a good look at the glazed eyes of one of the drones. “Hey Nat you still there?”

“Go for me.”

“There’s something wrong with their eyes…”

“Like what?” Natasha asked, chewing her lower lip, her fingertips rubbing against each other as she followed Steve’s signal on the path to the fourth floor.

            “Totally glazed over,” he tilted the man’s head up towards the light. “No response to light.” He replied quietly, a shiver passing down his spine. “I think they’re on something.”

            “Like what?””

            “I dunno.”

            “Get to four now!” Sam exclaimed, cutting into the conversation before she heard the spray of gunfire as whoever was there, opened hell on Steve.

 

            The rounds pinged off his shield, the flattened bullets bouncing off and falling to the floor. He heard the clatter of the guns as Bucky ran right for him, twin blades glinting in the bad fluorescent light. He slashed up, the blades scraping against the shield, riding the momentum he kicked out with his right hand, sending Steve sailing across the floor, tiles busting lose in his wake. Rolling over his right shoulder, he sprang back up and tossed the shield straight towards Bucky, knowing he’d catch it. He sprinted forward, intending to dropkick the shield into Bucky’s chest only to have it swung at him like a cricket bat, the flat end slamming him into the wall face first. He groaned, rolling away from the wall towards Bucky’s ankles, hoping to knock him off his feet. Bucky leapt up and came back down, his right knee aiming for Steve’s skull, blades aiming for his throat. He missed by inches as Steve pushed up, a hard right cross, catching Bucky in the shoulder. Bucky spun, the blades held downward as he took a boxer’s stance.

            “We don’t have to do this.” Steve said, his hands up in supplication despite holding his own stance in the narrow hallway.

            “We do.” Bucky sneered, lunching with his left, the blade arcing across Steve’s midsection, slicing the Kevlar. Steve kicked out, aiming for Bucky’s right wrist, rattling his grip as the left mechanically swiped again, this time for Steve’s throat. Bucky’s right swinging in a vicious upper cut that nearly slit Steve’s face from chin to forehead. Steve was backed into the wall and pressed a button on his left, the magnets Tony had installed activating and immediately drawing the blades towards him. He used his whole arm to bring down both blades, his right fist coming down to connect with the top of Bucky’s head for an overhead smash. He deactivated the magnets and flicked his arm launching the blades down the corridor. He watched Bucky as he sprinted for them, pressing for the shield to come and smack him square in the face. Bucky flipped end over end as Steve’s shield returned to his left forearm. He held it up, guarding himself as he tried to talk some sense into his old friend.

            “I told you, we don’t have to do this.”

            Bucky pushed up and turned slowly, facing Steve. He wiped the blood from his mouth, spat and rolled his shoulder. He threw a slim blade, catching Steve in his shoulder. He let out a scream as Bucky surged forward, using the shield as a launching pad, the force pushing the blade farther into Steve’s shoulder.

Clint rounded the top of the stairs and seeing Steve on the floor immediately fired two arrows, one aiming for his torso and the other for his thigh. Bucky deflected both with his right arm on his way up charging up the stairs two at a time. He bulldozed into Clint, knocking him into the wall, the archer slumping with the impact. He heard Sam’s jetpack as he ran, rounding the stairs of the fifth floor. He was tackled through a window and charged through into an abandoned apartment. Bucky swung wildly, as he tried to gain his bearings. He reached for his gun, opening fire, clipping Sam’s right leg.

“Dick move.” Sam grunted, landing and producing his weapon, discharging fire and missing. Bucky tossed the emptied gun and ran towards Sam, tackling him to the ground, scrabbling for his right arm. He pinned Sam down as he wrapped himself around Sam’s shoulder, pulling his arm between his legs and pulling, working at wrenching the arm from the socket.

Steve took a running baseball slide into Bucky’s shoulders, driving him off Sam who rolled over, clutching his arm. Clint ran in, bow drawn as Steve and Bucky wrestled across the ruined floor. “You gotta hold him still!” Clint yelled, the tip of his arrow bouncing between the two men. Bucky drove his elbows into Steve’s ribs, the blows lifting Steve up for a moment. Clint let the arrow fly, the tip sinking into Bucky’s ribcage

“What’s happening?!” Natasha barked, the heat signatures bouncing all over her screen.

“Contact!” Clint replied, running to clothesline Bucky only to be on the receiving end of a well timed snap kick. He fell over, clutching his stomach, gasping for air. Bucky pulled the arrow out and tossed it on the floor, he swayed for a moment before turning and running towards the window, curling up and tossing himself out.

“No!” Steve exclaimed, running towards the window just as Bucky landed on top of a car, crushing the roof. He rolled off, stumbled for a moment and slid into the back of a black Suburban that skidded to a stop in the middle of the street. The car sped off leaving Steve, battered, bloodied and extremely pissed.

“What the hell happened Natasha!?” he yelled, turning back into the room where Sam and Clint were helping each other up, Sam’s arm tucked protectively against his body.

“You said stand down.” Natasha replied, her brows furrowed in anger as she stared at the screen, seeing three signals on her monitor. “I stood down.”

“Damnit…” Steve bit out.

Clint groaned as he took the weight of Sam’s body on his badly damaged shoulder.

“Tracking beacon.” Clint grunted, straightening up, clutching his aching ribs. “It was that or hit him with an explosive arrow…Nat, you should see him heading on your nav now.””

“So where the hell is he going?”

Natasha sighed. “No idea. Give me some time…”

“We’re heading back.” Steve said, picking up his shield, attaching it to his back and taking Sam from Clint. “We’ve gotta check out his holding space and get those people medical help. Meet us on the roof in ten.”

            “Copy.” Natasha replied, muting her comm and bringing the jet back to the roof, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. She leaned back in the chair, eying the phone, the encrypted message staring back at her. Tony would have tagged it to make sure she read it. He was effectively washing his hands of the whole thing. The problem was that he had every right to and she was jealous that he could so easily walk away from it.

She opened the file and groaned.

 

            “He wasn’t here long…that’s a good thing.”

“Is it…?” Clint wheezed as he rooted through the trundle box. They’d left Sam on the jet and headed to the apartment Bucky had been holed up in. “He was pretty much armed to the teeth…”

            “Odds are there’s more where this came from…” Steve said as he closed up the trundle.

            “Hang on, what’s that…?” Clint pointed to a small rectangular box tucked in amongst the ammunition clips. He reached in, took it out and held it out to Steve. He opened it, finding two syringes tucked into a foam body. “This isn’t good.”

            Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Nope. Hey Nat you still there?”

Natasha looked up from the phone screen. “Yeah.”

            “We’ve got something here.”

            Natasha shook her head. “Like?”

“Some syringes full of something…might be connected to the people we took down.”

            “With the glazed eyes.” Clint added helpfully, picking up the trundle filled with ammo. “We already called a clean up team about them…”

            “I’ll tell Fury…bring those things back.”

            “Tell me what?”

Natasha turned around, finding Fury standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. “They ran into Barnes in the field.”

“Figured.”

“This is getting out of hand…”

“You’re telling me.” she pocketed her phone, pushing up from the desk. “The boys are banged up bad. I’m gonna call the medics, have them ready as soon as they land.” She made her way towards the door, hoping to squeeze past Fury.

“Romanov.”

Natasha’s shoulders slumped under Fury’s wary gaze. She took a step back into the room.

“You’re worried.”

"I dumped out everything..."

"No you didn't Natasha. We still have some secrets. Whatever was published in front of Pierce was trash compared to the real treasure we have in our archives and stored elsewhere" 

"So now what? He's suspicious of us he finds Barnes and then? He's not bringing him here..."

"He will. He doesn't trust anyone but us because he doesn't have anyone else."

"That's cold, even for you.”

Fury pursed his lips grimly. "The mission for Rogers is simple; rescue the MIA Barnes. The mission for us is turning Barnes into an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. He's an asset.”

Natasha regarded Fury, seeing him in a new light. He had always been pragmatic, especially considering his situation but this was a new layer to the man who argued on her behalf to be seen as a valuable member of the team. Years of anti-KGB sentiment tainting her success everywhere she went; then there was the little matter of her having been in the Red Room and the quiet secret that as a child, the winter soldier James Barnes had been one of her handlers. Fury supported his flawed and volatile collection of freaks and maniacs but this was the first time Natasha knew that he was willing to do anything to keep them safe. How much more leadership can one demonstrate after successfully orchestrating his own death to salvage his organization? "You think he can do it? That Barnes would agree to it?"

"You did."

"I was a child."

"No a very nice one either." He scoffed. "As far as we know, we're the only ones left and the more high potential people we can bring in, the better."

"Does that include Carter and Martinelli?" Natasha felt the air change as she mentioned the gun-toting elephants in the room. "Angie wants them out."

“And she’ll get that. We all want a happy ending it’s just the things we have to go through to get them that make it worth it. That’s life. Right now, we have to look at the greater good.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“You’re Russian, that’s expected.” He moved away from the door, allowing her passage. “And Romanov? Don’t be afraid to ask for help. You can’t work every angle of something on your own.”

 

 

         Angie couldn't wipe the smirk from her face as she watched Peggy scrolling through the Netflix cue, eyes wide with excitement. "There are so many choices..."

         "Yeh, it can be a little overwhelming. I can only imagine how nutty it's gotta feel considering all the time that you missed..." Angie said, reaching for Peggy's hand, giving it a soft squeeze. "We got all the time in the world to catch up."

         "Don't think you're weaseling out of your obligation to S.H.I.E.L.D." Peggy warned.

         "No ma'am."

         "Oh," Peggy said reaching into her pocket for Angie's phone. "This vibrated..." She held it out, screen mercifully down as Angie took it.

         "Didn't even know you had it." Angie admitted, swiping up and swallowing the dread that bloomed in her chest; an encrypted message from Tony. She dumped it on the nightstand and settled back against the headboard. If he thought sending messages like that was the way to get back in her good graces, he was insane. He almost cost her this; the worry she felt welling in her stomach dissipating as Peggy handed her the remote after she settled on a Hitchcock thriller.

         “I forgot you hadn’t seen this one…” Angie said with a hint of sadness; it was released around the time of Peggy’s disappearance. She wasn't going to press or do more than Peggy was comfortable with despite wanting to wrap her arms around Peggy and never let her go. As though she read her mind, Peggy reclined against Angie's side, their hips touching as she threaded her fingers though Angie's. She rested her head against Angie's shoulder and sighed.

 

         No, Tony couldn't bribe his way back.

 

But she couldn’t ignore that message.

 

            Peggy was out like a light, her body partially draped across Angie’s as she slept. Angie opened her eyes slowly, the _are you still watching_ screen staring at her, the glow illuminating the room; she sighed and pressed no, shutting the screen off and listening to the sound of Peggy’s deep breathing. She looked to her right at her phone, eyes darting between Peggy’s sleeping form and the nightstand. She reached for the phone, opened the file and immediately wished she hadn’t.

 

‘I know you’re pissed at me. I don’t think and know how important it is to keep what it is you have safe. I did a lot of digging.  Dealt with a less than thrilled Pepper AND Hill. Here’s what I found, it’s fragmented and I’m trying to piece more data together.

                                                                       

                                                                                                -Tony’

 

_CLASSIFIED_

_Johann Fenhoff. Hydra Scientist_

_Date of Arrest May 6, 1946_

_Arresting Agent: Margaret Carter_

_Charges: Multiple Counts Murder:_

_SSR Chief Roger Dooley’s death; procured Stark Industries item 47 Midnight Oil, multiple counts murder._

_Fenhoff witnessed wrongful use of Midnight Oil during WWII Battle of Finow; declared enemy of the United States in 1944, Hydra sympathizer._

Angie swallowed hard; she remembered that night. Peggy had been terrified when she finally found her at The Griffith; she worried she’d taken the day to go to the movies.  She continued scrolling through the message, her heart rate picking up.

_Upon arrest, Fenhoff’s ring was removed and placed in SSR custody for research. Classified: Highly dangerous; EYES ONLY._

_Ring: emits high frequency waves that hypnotizes subject, leaving them in a highly suggestible state. The ring itself is not source of power; it is an aid to Fenhoff’s mastery of persuasion._

_Reported Success rate: Varied._

_Confined to prison 1946, muzzle affixed and designed by Howard Stark. Do Not Remove._

 

            Classified file ended and Angie couldn’t help but smile at Peggy’s handwriting and notes. She opened the next file and her smile faded. It was from the journals of Armin Zola; Hydra scientist and apparently Fenhoff’s roommate.

 

_Attempts to replicate soldier program has failed. We have lost the subject in question, James Barnes, to the abhorrently named Captain America. Barnes responded well to initial treatments however Shmidt felt that our methods were feeble and the means limited._

Another Entry:

_Fate would have it that we would find Barnes again following a fall from a Hydra train being boarded by the Howling Commandos lead by the America super soldier._

_Fortune smiles upon those ambitious enough to see her favor._

            Another Entry:

_I have been prisoner here far too long, but the tendrils spread far and deep in this facility. I have heard whispers of Hail Hydra in the halls and have been rewarded for responding. I am anticipating release soon; Phillips and his men cannot hold me for much longer as I have nothing to offer them. I have heard that I will be receiving a cellmate, the previous ones having been less than useful or human. If the information is correct, we may yet be liberated._

_Red Skull, Captain America, these names, they are out of fantasy; mere masks worn to conceal the true faces of evil. I have no interest in such theatrics; a man of science will always appear the monster. Perhaps I was preemptive in my worry, madness serves as a fuel to the fire and passion of discovery. Fenhoff insists on being referred to as Faustus. I must admit, I admire the tenacity of the name, yet I will not even consider renouncing my name for it is my legacy. I will live on in one way or another._

_I have made quite a deal in order to continue our research. He with is muzzle and I with my mind. We are in a new facility and have much at our disposal. This organization has spared no expense and while I offer my assistance and council, I watch as the tendrils continue to wind their way through the very halls that suppose themselves superior.  Fenhoff has developed a synthetic solution that can be used to domesticate even the most wild of animals. Simple triggers._

_Barnes has responded well to these treatments. It is as though the mistakes made by Hydra are being repaid by the success of this program christened The Winter Soldier._

_It would appear that for all of this deranged madness, these names of fantasy still hold quite a sway over the minds of those unwilling to accept the inevitability of folly._

            She had never seen these before. Everything was starting to make sense. Zola’s name had appeared on S.H.I.E.L.D documents as part of a good will program between S.H.I.E.L.D and various agencies willing to sacrifice decency for another weapon in the expanding arms race. She didn’t think anything of it at the time, trusting Woodrow was paying close attention to the details. It was one of the reasons she couldn’t be the Director; she couldn’t be bothered to care about the rest of the world when hers was crumbling.

            The very people who thought they were protecting it had orchestrated S.H.I.E.L.D collapsing; she could read between the lines, Natasha and Steve found the old SSR base and interacted with Zola as an AI platform. He had been brought into the fold for his research and turned right around to plant Hydra agents and seeds all across the organization. Bucky had been brainwashed, reprogrammed and used as a weapon. She remembered the field reports filed from the Hydra base they’d taken in D.C. Inside an old bank vault was a large chair with various panels attached to it like a crown. The engineering team found they were electro magnetic and capable of rewiring parts of the brain using high frequency shocks.  Bucky had been a successful graduate of the program. She sat still in bed, shutting off the phone and staring at the wall

Angie’s left arm instinctively tightened around Peggy as she slept. They wanted to do the same to Peggy. They were going to turn her into a mindless weapon or even a sleeper agent if she was reading the chemistry notes correctly; the serum they were developing was designed to make suggestion simpler, programmable and changeable to suit the needs of the mission.

            _Damnit Tony. What had they done?_


	11. Kingdom of Rust

 

11

Kingdom of Rust

 

            “I told you, I’m fine.” Sam called out as he bandaged up his calf. He hobbled back to the cockpit, balancing his weight on one leg and maneuvering along using the backs of the chairs. “Just a scrape.”

“You sure?” Steve pressed as he paced around Bucky’s sparse apartment, pawing through scraps of paper scattered across the top of a broken desk. “We can head back…”

“Don’t use my Hello Kitty Band-Aids, Sam.” Clint warned as he took photos of the syringes to send back to base.

            “I used the whole box, buddy, sorry.”

“Sam…” Steve warned, turning around again as he continued to survey the room.

“I’m watching the scanners, nothing nutty yet. Maybe he’s laying low somewhere…”

“Or he dug it out of himself…” Clint muttered to himself in dissatisfaction as he keyed up Natasha.

“And the hostiles?”

            “Already out.”

Steve nodded, watching as Clint sent off the last file, pocketed his phone and stood up. “Track him, we’re going right for him.”

“Given that he basically had a whole swarm of randos come at us all gloom and doom and no one home don’t you think we should just…y’know…hang on?” Clint asked, his eyebrows skewed in concern. “I just sent this stuff out to Nat, maybe she’ll find something…”

“That’s gonna take time and we don’t have a lot of that.” Steve replied, grabbing the trundle and heading out, Clint trailing behind him.

            “Right but he’s got a tracker on him, so we’ll know where he is. I say, he’s going to regroup and when he does, he’s coming with more of those drones. He’s probably going to even take the fight to us. We’re not far out from New York, that’s our turf, we can contain him that way.”

“You just said you think he dug it out…”

Clint rolled his eyes. “I mean…it crossed my mind…Is that something you can do? Mind reading…?”

            “You said it outloud.” Steve said with mild concern.

“Whatever it is he’s doing it involves driving around in a circle…” Sam said in concern. “I’m ready to go as soon as you guys get up here.”

            “Good, raise Nat, tell her we’re in pursuit and to contact us as soon as she gets anything on the stuff we sent her.”

 

* * *

 

            A pale light shone against her eyelids, she shifted ever so slightly against Angie’s side, squeezing her eyes tight as she burrowed closer against Angie, her right ear pressed to Angie’s heart; she could hear it pick up. She heard the soft sounds of music and dialogue before it was silenced. She felt Angie’s arm tighten around her, pulling her closer than either of them thought possible, she felt a little bit of air leave her lungs. She was strong. Her eyes opened a crack, the glow from the flat screen TV somewhat blinding. Brows furrowed, she tilted her head up and watched Angie's expression as she feigned watching the movie she put on, forehead tense with worry. She remembered that same expression on her face when focusing on memorizing lines; she was distracted and trying to puzzle something together.

            It had been a long strange road to this place.

            She had vague recollections of the chamber; it had all been a blur, lights shouting and cold. She heard voices when she was in the medical ward, felt hands on her checking her pulse and remembered the weight of Angie’s hands around hers. The way Angie kissed her forehead; she remembered that she would read to her and kept her hair out of her face. She stared up at Angie, the soft light casting shadows across her features making her soft cheeks and eyes look dangerous. She knew she was safe and she understood Angie’s motives and reasoning; if Angie died, Peggy would’ve been kept in S.H.I.E.L.D’s facility and probably forgotten the way they’d forgotten Steve. They would’ve moved on once they realized she didn’t hold any value to them. Angie was right here and despite her misgivings, the gaps in her memory, she remembered how good this was; lying in bed against Angie was all either of them had wanted.

She hadn't meant to be so insistent, her hands immediately cupping Angie's face as she initiated the kiss, pulling her closer, daring her to move. Peggy pulled herself up into Angie, straddling the surprised woman as she deepened the kiss. Her body hummed as Angie's hands tentatively ran along her hips, sliding towards the small of her back and pulling her in. Peggy pulled away slowly, trying to catch her breath. She studied the surprised look on Angie’s face, the corner of her mouth quirked into a pleased grin before as leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Angie’s, her eyes staring at Angie’s lips. “I’m sorry…” she said breathlessly, not quite feeling the conviction, her body suddenly humming with need. “You looked a bit…”

“Don’t be…” Angie whispered, the pad of her thumb running along Peggy’s lower lip before dipping in for another kiss. “Don’t ever apologize for that, English.” Angie said softly as she kissed Peggy again, reciprocating the intensity the woman had intended. They were panting when they finally pulled apart.

“I missed you too…” Peggy admitted.

“You thought kissin’ me would fix my mood…?”

“Did it work?”

Angie scrunched her face, a lopsided grin crossing her lips, brightening her eyes. “Not sure…”

Peggy leaned in again, pulling Angie by her chin, kissing her. “Better?”

“Much…much better.” Angie replied, warmth creeping up her neck. “I missed you…every second of every day.”

“I missed you too.” Peggy cupped Angie’s face. “What’s bothering you?”

Angie shrugged, her skin tingling where Peggy’s hand rested against her cheek. “Nothin’.”

Peggy arched an eyebrow.

“Everythin’.”

“Which is it?”

“Both.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“Yeah…”

Peggy shifted, the movie forgotten, a low hum of disapproval escaping Angie’s lips. “Does it have something to do with what you’ve told me? With what’s going on?” Angie swallowed hard, biting her lower lip as she avoided Peggy’s scrutiny.

“Yes.”

            “Well…”

“I wanna keep you safe. I wanna keep you from ever setting foot in that place again. You’ve done your duty, served your time and they got their intel they can just…” Angie rushed through her thoughts, upset that she was even admitting this at all. She had to keep it together. She had to erase whatever connected the two of them to S.H.I.E.L.D and put as much distance as she could between them. She saw the concern etched in Peggy’s face; it was only a matter of time before she stumbled upon public records, newsreels, interviews and she learned the truth.

Before she found Steve and it was all over.

She could hear Natasha’s advice conflicting with her father’s voice. _You have to even the playing field._

_Never let them see you sweat. If it’s yours, you keep it._

She brushed back a lock of Peggy’s hair. “We’ll go. Tomorrow. We’ll go and we’ll go through everything, alright?”

“Is there something I need to know?”

“Not right now…I just…” Angie leaned across and kissed Peggy’s forehead, the tip of her nose, her cheeks before a soft chaste kiss on the lips. “I just wanna pretend the world doesn’t exist.”

Peggy nodded, shivering under Angie’s touch. She felt the resolve melting away as Angie’s hands softly ran the length of Peggy’s back. She had always loved the sly way Angie looked at her in moments like this: a combination of flirtation and confidence that always brought a rush of heat to Peggy’s cheeks. They’d exchanged heated glances in the Automat when Peggy would purposely sit in a booth waiting for Mr. Jarvis and watch her. She moved with grace despite hating the job and always smiled. She studied Angie’s face now and felt a pang in her chest. She hadn’t seen Angie genuinely smile; there had been smirks, grins and mirthless chuckles that never traveled to her eyes. Peggy leaned forward, brushing her lips against Angie’s before closing her eyes and diving in.

They kissed, slower, softer like it was first time.

 

* * *

 

Angie stirred, her cheek pressed against bare skin, her arm draped across the small of Peggy’s back, their lower halves covered by the blankets and sheets. She blinked for a moment, gingerly pushing up and gazing down at Peggy's bare back. She sighed as she pushed Peggy's hair from her shoulder delicately kissing the bullet scars. She had a few scars and beauty marks on her that suddenly made Angie's heart ache. She left soft kisses along her skin, tracing a map from one point to the other with her lips. She trailed the tip of her nose along Peggy's spine, inhaling the sweetness of her skin. She dropped another kiss on the small of Peggy's back before sidling back up outlining her body with her own and trailing her fingertips along Peggy's back in slow lazy patterns. She remembered the night she spelled out I love you along Peggy’s shoulders, how terrified she was to even feel that way let alone _write_ it; she wanted to whisper it into Peggy’s ear dozens of times but she worried it would ruin their relationship. She kissed her back again, spelling I love you across her shoulders with the tips of her fingers, writing it over and over again. She watched the rise and fall of Peggy's back as she slept. She had watched her sleep for years, dread filling her heart as she feared her never waking up. She sighed again, reveling in how good it was to have her back and like this. They had made love last night, into this morning and into the afternoon. It hadn’t been planned or even anticipated but it happened and Angie couldn't have been more at peace. She sighed in contentment, listening to the sound of Peggy’s breathing and her heartbeat under her ear.

"You're feeling quite amorous." Peggy muttered into her pillow, her voice thick with sleep. 

"You started it." Angie mused, shifting as Peggy turned her head to face her.

She was gorgeous with sleep still in her eyes, her lips full and her hair a mess. "Kissin' me like that...you know what that does to a girl..." Angie grinned.

Peggy chuckled, the sound music to Angie's ears. "What time is it?"

"Three."

Peggy's eyes went wide in surprise. "You're joking."

"Not at all..."

Peggy pushed up onto her elbows, looking for the alarm clock on the nightstand, giving Angie an opportunity to appreciate Peggy's breasts for a moment, two telltale hickies dotting the supple flesh. "It's three _fifteen_." Peggy corrected disapproving of the way Angie smiled at her despite the way it melted her heart. She’d gotten her to smile after all. She lay back down on her chest in a huff bunching the pillow underneath her head with her arms.

"Not my fault we had a little pent up energy. Didn't hear you complain anyhow..."

Peggy swatted Angie's arm, burying her face in the pillow to smother her laughter. "Don't be so crass." She said, the smile brightening her face. She rolled onto her left side to face Angie.

"I might've been a little rusty. Y'know, it’s been awhile.”

"Really?" Peggy asked with genuine interest, pushing up onto her left elbow, Angie’s eyes landing again on her cleavage; she didn’t mind it as much now and she took a moment to admire Angie, fair was fair. She shivered as Angie moved closer, propping her head on her hand, the fingertips of her right hand leaving a trail of fire in their wake as she absently stroked her skin. "There had to be..."

"No." Angie blushed, her hand staying busy as it trailed along Peggy’s shoulders, eyes following the curves of her body under the sheet that draped across her. She could feel the weight of Peggy’s gaze on her face. "No one in the world but you, English, deal with it." Angie simply replied.

“That must’ve been awful.”

“Waiting for you to wake up was awful. The whole…” Angie blushed again, fully aware they were both post coital; old habits and shyness were hard to shake. “I was fine. A gal can pick her battles.” Peggy bit her lower lip, lowering her head into the pillow as Angie’s fingers trailed lower along her spine as she inched closer, bringing her mouth close to Peggy’s ear, their bodies inches apart, the sheet their only barrier. Peggy felt the heat creeping along her cheeks again, Angie’s lips inches from her ear. “You’re here, you’re awake…” Angie murmured, kissing Peggy’s shoulder softly.

“And you’d like to make up for lost time…” Peggy teased, turning her head towards Angie, capturing her lips with hers.

“Unless you’re complainin’…” Angie purred against Peggy’s lips, their breaths mingling, bodies immediately craving contact.

Peggy slid on top of Angie ending the conversation.

* * *

 

           

Bucky cleared the pockets of the two drones who had been tasked with his safekeeping, rolling them into a ditch before he climbed back into the Suburban, his side paining him worse than his head. He rooted around the glove box looking for a first aid kit. He knew the idiot with the bow hit him with something; that arrow was had been far too easy to pull from his side as he lay in the back of the car, the drones driving north for some unknown reason.

            He rolled found the box and opened it, grunting his disappointment at it’s meager offerings. He checked his left side for his knife with a sigh; this was going to hurt.

            He hyperventilated and dug in the tip of the knife, kicking the passenger door hard enough to dent the frame and shatter glass. With his right hand, he fished out the tracker, slick with blood before tossing it out of the shattered window. He was going to shove one of those arrows into that archer’s forehead.

            He climbed into the drivers seat, turned the car on and drove off; he’d wasted enough gas to get him to the trainstation where Strucker left another vehicle, spare clothes and a drone who was doubling as his fake ID.

 

* * *

 

“Who would he have to go back to? Hydra’s been quiet and as far as they know, we don’t exist.” Sam said as he watched Steve retying his boots.

“Something like that running around? Hydra isn’t staying hidden for long, Sam. That’s an asset for them, they’re gonna want it back.”

“His shoulder…when we were on the Helicarrier, I did some damage to it but seeing him now, it was like nothing happened…someone had to have patched him up.”

“No offense Rogers, but it didn’t look like we did much to the guy this go around.” Clint grimaced shifting uncomfortably in the pilot’s chair as they flew above the city, following the tracking signal. “Odds are, he’s not going to see anybody anytime soon.”

“You shot him with an arrow.”

“Lucky shot too.” Sam added, checking his bandage.

“That’s practice, you should try it sometime, birdman.” Clint winked. “I don’t think it did any damage to be honest and that arrow is designed to act as a delivery payload for the tracker, not really a hurty stabby thing. Shocking I know.”

“Where’s he heading?”

“No idea.”

“Is it possible he found the tracker?”

“It’s a sub dermal thing, kinda just sits there until the thing dies. Or they do.”

Steve pressed his palms together, exhaling slowly. “As long as we know where he is, we bring him to S.H.E.I.LD. and get some answers.”

Clint shrugged. “There’s always that…”

“Hey fellas” Nat’s voice filled the cabin with it’s usual snarky charm. “Got the info back from the nerd herd.”

“What’re we dealing with?” Steve asked, leaning over the communications table, staring at the various buttons and knobs; the thing still gave him the creeps. It was similar to the controls on the Valkyrie.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that all those people are safe in specialized custody; hospitals couldn’t deal with them so we sent out team out to help. They were exposed to long term levels of a neuro tranquilizer, basically makes them…”

“Drones.” Steve finished with a nod. “Okay. So is that what they’ve been doing to him?”

“I don’t know.” Natasha replied. She leaned back in her seat. She was staring at three sheets of paper, one from Steve’s find, the documents on Peggy and the third with the results. She needed to call Angie and let her know that Peggy may still have some of the serum in her system. She didn’t think they had any time to program her with anything but given the fact that she was still scanning papers over with maps, numbers and verified coordinates around the world meant that they had done something to Peggy Carter; she was still remembering locations and writing them while Angie squirreled them off to the office to send out to S.H.I.E.LD. She glanced up at the map on the screen. The coordinates lead to what was now the small nation of Sokovia. She had a hell of a time finding what it had been before then and as it turned out, Hydra loyalist Baron Von Strucker had been spotted there. She was having a hell of a time tracking down Thor; he was presumably somewhere with Jane Foster and she was pretty sure the both of them were somewhere without cell reception. She knew she couldn’t send Bruce and that left the poor trio on the quinjet who’d just suffered a serious set back. “I just know that those people had long term exposure and it may take some time to find a way to flush it out of their systems without it feeling like withdrawal.”

Steve clenched his fist. “We’re going to bring him in.”

“Hey guys…” Clint called over the radio. “I think he found the tracker.”

They starred out over the empty lot, two bodies piled into a nearby ditch, the lights from the jet shining down onto tire tracks heading east. “It’s getting late and he’s got a head start. Nat, can you pull up cameras?”

Natasha nodded, aware they weren’t able to see it. “I’m on it.”

“We’ve got a trainstation nearby…best place to look.” Clint offered as Sam stood up and slipped on his jetpack. He moved towards the back of the jet, hitting the drop door.

“Go, I’ll catch up.” He dropped out, using the pack to cushion his landing on the ground.

Steve didn’t like the idea but they were running out of time. They were close; Bucky was injured and panicking they needed to detain him before he hurt innocent people. “Head that way, Nat keep searching for any still active Hydra agents we might’ve missed. He may be looking to connect with another operative.”

Natasha hit re-dial, hoping Angie would get the hint and pick up. If Bucky was being erratic and there were people completely under the control of that serum, she needed to warn her and if they were going to go up against an army, they were going to need more agents.

 

* * *

 

            The phone vibrated. Angie rolled her eyes in irritation and continued kissing Peggy, focusing on her particularly full bottom lip, tugging it gently before deepening the kiss. It had rung enough times that it fell off the edge of the nightstand and continued vibrating until it worked its way under the bed; whoever it was couldn’t take the hint that she was very, very busy. She ran the tip of her nose along Peggy’s collarbone before planting soft kisses along her throat, their bodies moving against each other slowly. She sighed in contentment as Peggy’s fingers trailed along her lower back, her right hand tilting Angie’s face toward her, kissing her softly. Angie could hear the phone still brrr-ing away, and part of her wanted to answer it but the desire dissipated as Peggy murmured something into her ear that made her blush. She shivered as Peggy’s lips found her pulse point, kissing and nipping softly. Angie continued focusing on the woman in bed with her, the phone and the world forgotten.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Cap, you’re not gonna believe this.”

“Talk to me.” Steve was hovering over Clint’s shoulder, eyes scanning the horizon as they followed the train tracks towards the station, hoping to spot something. Sam was pacing around the scene shaking his head in disbelief.

            “He picked the wallets clean but left the ID’s.”

“We can use that…”

            “Both of them are named David Strucker.”

            “Both?”

            “Yeah…”

            “Natasha, did you copy that?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m running the name now.”

“Falcon, get out of there, alert the clean up team and meet us at the train station.”

 

* * *

 

            Bucky spotted the drone, a quiet looking young man who was staring ahead, his hands shoved into his pockets. Pulling up the collar of his jacket higher as he approached, Bucky hoped he was as inconspicuous as the man he was approaching. “You got the time?” he asked, eyes darting around as the drone straightened up and handed him a bag. Bucky took the battered rucksack in confusion. “This is it?”

            “That’s all that was given to me, sir.” Came the stiff reply.

            If it weren’t because he needed to go, the number of commuters bustling around them, he would’ve stabbed this guy in the forehead. “Gimme the wallet.”

“Sir…”

            “Give. Me. The. Wallet.” Bucky bit out, his grip tightening on the straps of the bag. The drone wordlessly fished out his wallet and handed it over. He tossed the wallet into the bag. “Where’s the car?”

He lead the way into the farthest part of the parking lot, keys jangling in his hand as he approached a banged up Ford and opened the driver’s side door. “Inconspicuous sir.”

            Bucky groaned. “Get in. Drive.”

The man nodded obediently, climbed in, started the car and drove off. Bucky opened the wallet as he walked, fishing for cash and avoiding the credit cards. His eyes narrowed.

The name on the ID was David Strucker.

 

* * *

 

            “There are a couple of matches for David Strucker. I’m narrowing it down to guys who live in the DC metro area, with a medical background and still working on narrowing _that_ down. Any luck on your end?” Natasha scrolled through the database, mouth drawn into a tight line. This wasn’t going to be easy; most of the men on the list were scattered everywhere and there wasn’t much time to find him while they were chasing after Bucky. “I don’t want to be that guy but it seems like we’re dealing with a ghost…or he’s so good at blending in, we’re going to burn through jet fuel before we even catch up to him. A little jealous actually…”

            Steve clenched his fist as the jet approached the train station. “We’re approaching the train station, were you able to pull any kind of video for Bucky?”

            “Uh, working on it…” Natasha replied, cuing up live feeds from the cameras, scrubbing them for a facial match.

            “Cap, there’s a car on the move….” Clint pointed towards the Ford as it drove off out of the parking lot.

            “That’s gotta be him…”

“Odds aren’t so good that it is him.” Natasha warned.

“I’ve got it, stay at the trainstation.” Sam’s voice crackled over the radio.

            Natasha bit her lip as she scrubbed through the video feed, a partial image of Bucky on one side while the software compared dozens of other faces on the other side. “Still working Cap…”

            “Hate to be the bad guy here but I need you to work fast.” Steve groused pacing around as Clint cloaked the jet. 

Natasha shook her head. “Working on it.”

 

* * *

 

Her phone chirped and she bit out a swear word. She shut off her communication with the jet, switching the feed she was looking through to beam directly to the jet. She answered the phone, doing her best to make sure her annoyance was heard.

“Hill, now is not a good time…”

“Actually, now is a REALLY _fantastic_ time. Wanna tell me why I’m getting a phone call about a shoot out in the metro area? Where’s Nick?”

“Our phone line’s been disconnected on account of all the espionage…” Natasha swallowed. Maria Hill was the only person to ever call Fury by his first name. “Indisposed at the moment and the whole shootout thing wasn’t really much of a shootout…”

“While I’m on the subject, I hope this isn’t connected to a sealed batch of files that were locked behind S.H.I.E.L.D and Stark Industries firewalls.” Hill replied pointedly. “I’ve got private ops cleaning up Rogers’ ol’ time fight club, an indisposed of S.H.I.E.L.D director and Stark ducking my calls. He’s hiding behind Pepper and we both know I like her so he’s ensured that I won’t go off on her. I’m not the director there, so why am I getting these calls, Tasha?”

            Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, shutting her eyes tight before she answered. “I don’t know Maria.”

            “What’s going on?”

            Natasha sighed, leaning back in the seat and scrubbing her face with her hands. “Barnes is on the loose, Carter may be compromised and the guys the private ops team are treating seem to have some kind of serum that’s similar to what was in Carter’s blood work.”

            “Compromised? What? Where is she?”

“Safe.”

            “Natasha, is Carter still with Martinelli?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“What makes you think she’s compromised?”

“Remember the bases she drew out, they were all built in and around the late forties early fifties, during her service to the S.S.R. so it was good intelligence that was already documented. She and the Commandos basically mapped out all those areas. They were all verified and shut down. We don’t know if she drew them from memory from having actually been there or from having something programmed into her.”

“Notes say she wasn’t in the chamber long enough…”

“Right and the notes also say that the reports that should’ve been turned in, never were. Duggan and McCord were lousy with paperwork.”

Maria sighed. “Okay so what does any of this mean?”

“The coordinates connect to a small area in Europe, place called Sokovia but up until now, we haven’t had any other confirmations of activity there. Drones don’t know what to look for in terms of topography and Rhodes is busy on the ‘sorry War Machine was hijacked’ apology tour so we can’t use him to do surveys. Fury thinks it’s a definite Hydra base, the problem is we can’t be certain because Carter hasn’t drawn anything else and Martinelli isn’t responding to calls.”

“Not seeing the problem.”

“Peggy Carter has a mess of maps in her head and they’re all seeming to appear to be 100% accurate. No one has any idea how or why it’s happening. The serum those guys and Barnes have in them is an advanced form of the one they dosed Carter with when she was put in the chamber. It’s a neurotoxin…safe assumption is it was burned out of her system since she wasn’t given regular doses of it, unlike Barnes and his band of merry drones. We won’t know until she gets here and while Rogers is in the wind, I need her to get here and make sure she isn’t some sleeper agent or something.”

“Why would it activate now?”

“You saw her here. She wasn’t… _normal._ ”

“Says the woman who speaks a dozen languages and could kill a man with a staple.” Maria deadpanned, tapping the tip of her pencil into her blotter in amusement.

“Martinelli was right. As soon as she woke up, we’re using her. She was going to be locked up here like a lab rat. I know you don’t know what that’s like.”

“Okay. Is she coming to you?”

“Once I get a hold of her, yeah.”

“Now about that file.”

“File?”

“Someone accessed a secure file on Armin Zola and something called the Faustus Ring. Know anything about that?”

Natasha shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Hm. Keep me posted on Rogers’ progress. If you need me to run interference on that, let me know. I’d hate to really regret saying yes to her being released.”

 

* * *

 

­­­­­­­­

         Angie slipped out of bed, pulled on a tank top and bottoms stretched and reached for the phone under the bed. She leaned over towards Peggy, kissing her temple before leaving the room and dialing Natasha, who picked up the phone on the first ring. "Been trying to get a hold of you, where’ve you been?"

         "Busy."

         Natasha wrinkled her nose; Angie was rarely ever snippy. "Rogers found Barnes, they had a shootout, Barnes dug out his tracker and it seems he's got some kind of serum in his system that matches what Peggy has in hers.”

         “Now?”

         “This was in the last coupla hours so I guess it’s safe to say things were going on while you were _busy_."

         Angie's jaw clenched. "Where are they now?” If Steve and Bucky were chasing each other, she could easily take care of this and slip away. “Is it worse than we thought?”

         "Well, from the sound of it, they’re somewhere near Virginia or DC or Baltimore…I’m trying to figure out how to avoid losing my mind with all this.” Natasha looked at the monitors, the video feed frozen where Steve presumably stopped it to compare the faces. She had to thank Tony for redoing the system in the base, even if Steve said not to.

         “What's in Peggy's system?"

         “Neurotoxin of some kind. I'm guessing she burned most of it off because the guys Steve and his team encountered were basically mindless drones and she’s been fine. Looked like long term exposure, same with Barnes. Whatever she was exposed to was the first of it’s kind, not strong enough to do any damage but it could account for the confusion and maps she's been drawing...not to mention the Alzheimer’s the LMD developed but there’s no real way to be sure.”

         Angie pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought she was cleared. How do we _get_ sure?”

         “Bring her in. We’ve got a clean test sample that we can work off of. We get her cleared and..." Natasha lowered her voice, leaning into the receiver "you can make a clean break once it’s done."

         Angie's heart skipped, her eyes landing on the office door, her thoughts going beyond towards the possibility of finally being free from S.H.I.E.L.D.

         “There’s more. Hill called. She knows about the documents. I played it off but Tony is officially not answering anything so…”

         “It’ll look suspicious if I leave.”

         “It’s gonna stress you out more the longer you stay…”

         “I’m damn near 90 years old, I still got a VCR that blinks twelve and don’t understand computers.” Angie countered. “She’s convinced someone from S.H.E.I.L.D did it?”

         “She knows Tony did and doesn’t appreciate the stonewalling happening. She’s not happy. She also knows Peggy may be in trouble. We’re all here for you but I’m not sure how long we can keep the window open. If Fury thinks this is going to go south…”

         “It’s going to be fine..."

         “Angie.”

         “Natasha. I’m sendin’ you the maps if she draws them, the coordinates if she writes ‘em…I waited for her to come back to me and I’m not going to lose her. If the tests say she’s cleared, then she’s cleared…Steve thinkin’ he’s got some kinda something and it’s not the same thing…”

         “Angie.” Natasha reiterated. “He won’t go after an agent but he’ll be very keen to know that agent may have gone rogue.”

         “I’m not goin’ rogue. If I was, you and I both know I’d’ve torn that building to the ground.” Angie replied firmly. She sat on the couch, staring out of the window overlooking a section of the city. “If Tony’s not talkin’ and the files aren’t traceable, what can we do?”

         “Just, keep her safe. Anything happens, call me. Okay?”

         “Alright.” Angie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Nat?”

         “Yeah.”

         “Thank you.”

         Natasha sighed, hung up and tossed the phone onto the table, standing up and cradling the back of her head with hands, fingers tapping the back of her head in thought. She missed the radio call from Steve saying they were on their way to base and due within two hours.

 

* * *

* * *

 

1974:

 

         _Angie's heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline flooding her bloodstream as she inched forward, Dum Dum's heavy right hand on her shoulder following close behind. The sensation reminded her of being on stage but the heft of the gun in her hand reminded her there would be no encore if this went south._

_"Still think this is a lousy idea..." He muttered as he shuffled closely behind, followed by Gabe, Pinkerton and the rest of the Howling Commandos._

_"Ya coulda stayed put y'know..." Angie hissed back. “Pretty much a one and done job.”_

_"And let you have all the fun? Nah." Dum Dum grinned, flicking the brim of his bowler hat with a wink._

_"You ever wash that thing?" Angie asked as they neared the bend in the dark hallway._

_"Not recently."_

_"Here's hoping the smell doesn't give away our position..." Pinky groused as he adjusted the strap to his rifle, easing it across his body. Angie crouched and flicked open a compact mirror._

_"Honestly Brooklyn, now ain't the time to check your make up..." Dum dum said with a shake of his head._

_"Two on the left two on the right, I clear them get to that door and start opening it." Angie said pocketing the mirror and flipping the safety off. She rounded the corner deftly, the silencers skew skew sound followed by the dropping of bodies. "Move."_

_The men surged forward as a unit checking each corner as Angie lead the way towards the door intel said was sealed like a tomb; the other side of it contained Hydra intelligence and data involving their latest program. Pinky set to work while the team circled around him, weapons at the ready. Angie's eyes narrowed as she watched the shadows. She could feel Dum Dum's heavy gaze on her. "Somethin’ I can help you with?" She asked, eyes flicking to her wrist. They had a few minutes before reinforcements would come flooding the space._

_"That's hers ain't it." He nodded towards where she kept the compact in the front pocket of her flack jacket; it was more of a statement than a question. He took her silence as a yes. "We're gonna figure it out, Ang, you'll see. You got Howard, that Pym guy, Steven Strange...and us."_

_Angie turned at the sound of the tumblers clicking into place, locking eyes with Dum Dum Duggan for the briefest of moments. She noted his flaming red hair was turning steel gray at the temples. "I know." She said with a sad nod, moving toward Pinky and pulling the door open._

_It was empty. Whatever equipment had been stored here was moved, the intel was either bad or outdated. She grit her teeth in disappointment, the muscles in her jaw flexing as she tapped the gun against her thigh in anger. She exhaled and slipped the gun back into her thigh holster. "Sweep the place and lets blow her up."_

_Dum Dum and the Commandos had seen Angie in action before, all of Peggy’s brawler charm with some of Janet Van Dyne’s elegant martial arts style but watching her dismantle a group of Hydra agents was something completely different. She’d endured four hard hits to the stomach her body moving upwards with each blow. She dropped her shoulder, plowing into him, using all of her weight to crush him into the concrete wall. She took a softball-sized piece of wall and cracked it against his head, watching him topple over._

_“We gotta move!” she yelled, dropping the bloody block to the ground._

_It felt eerily reminiscent of that mission he ran with Peggy back in Europe and the thought scared him. They had been separated by HYDRA agents, gunfire and grenades flying as they made their way out of the facility; her ponytail bobbing behind her as she ran towards the exit. He felt his heart slamming in his chest as she caught a grenade with her bare hand and hurled it back with the same force it had been lobbed at them, detonating just above the agent’s heads. She slammed the door behind them, bullets punching holes into the metal before she barred it and shoved them back down the narrow hallway towards the helicopter where he heard McCord roaring in delight over the thunk thunk thunk of m50 as he took out the arriving support. "Hurry the hell up would ya?!?_

_He watched Angie, sweet, quiet Angie close the door behind them, lay a thin strip of clay along the frame and strike the match and ignite it. She didn't look like the girl who'd been pouring over science books and chewing pencils to the led at Peggy's bedside. Janet Van Dyne had made her something else. Dum Dum was so busy staring he missed the guard who sprang up as he gasped and wheezed his way up the path towards the jet. Two quick shots and he was down; Angie had seen him. "Gotta move Duggan, c'mon!" She grabbed him by the back of his flak jacket finishing the sprint with him before two shots rang out and Angie gasped, slumping into the chopper as he clamored in, his bones aching with the effort. "No!" he yelled, firing back as the jet took off, Gabe taking over the m50 and replying in kind, the man who'd taken the shot launched off his feet with the impact. They swung a hard wide arc to the left and downwind just as the building was leveled by their explosive charges. Angie was face down on the cool metal floor, the wind knocked out of her but she was conscious._

_"Say something!" Dum Dum yelled as he tore at Angie's flack jacket in a panic and searched for the bullet wounds._

_"Watch the jacket..." she slurred, pushing herself over as best she could, the ceiling swimming into view. She had a cut on her forehead, blood trickling down into her right eye. "I bled all over it..."_

_"The hell with that! Get me the med kit!"_

_She had been hit in the left thigh, two in the shoulder and too hurt to do anything. She closed her eyes, listening to the engine rumble as they flew up, the sound of gunfire being drowned out by the sounds of panic in the cabin. Her mind wandered towards Peggy; she could her her admonishing her for bleeding all over her favorite shirt. ‘This’ll be the devil to wash out.’ She almost laughed. "Don't let her see me like this..." She slurred again, feeling Dum Dum's hands on her as he tore the hole in her pants wider around for the bullet. "Please don't let her..."_

_"Hey hey..." Dum Dum soothed. “It’s good. You’re good.” He looked up from the injury anxiously. "It went through and through. Missed the artery. See, lookin good already..." He rolled her onto her good side after he stopped the bleeding from her leg. He cursed under his breath at the pool of blood on the helio’s metal floor.  He tore at the fabric and examined the hole, his hands slick with Angie's blood._

_“I’m gonna raise one of the airforce bases…let em know we’re comin.” McCord called out._

_"She's supposed to heal right?" Dum Dum asked, his voice trembling as Gabe field dressed Angie’s injuries. “Is that something she’s supposed to do?”_

_"She's supposed to be able to do something..." McCord yelled over his shoulder, lips drawn in a thin line. "Put pressure on it. Ah crap. Hang on fellas, Gotta put a hold on that emergency stop."_

_"We're not clear of HYDRA...?!"_

_"They've got planes apparently...Gabe! Get back on that gun!" Gabe shrugged and pushed off towards the m50, reloading and swiveling it towards the incoming jets. "Just keep it steady!" McCord bellowed. Pinky slid into Gabe’s spot next to Dum Dum, pressing his hand against the bullet hole, the pressure drawing an angry yelp from Angie. She grimaced as she sat up, shaking Pinky off and sticking her fingers into the wound, digging out the bullet and tossing it to the floor. She stood up on wobbly legs and reached for the m50, aiming for the jets turbines._

_They fell from the sky._

_"Go stealth..." She said, crawling into the crash seat and wiping the blood out of her eyes. She looked down at her blood caked hands and back toward an awestruck Dum Dum Duggan. "Nobody tells Howard."_

_"D'ya think I wouldn't figure it out? Angie, you took one of my prototypes out on an unsanctioned mission with my guys and blew up a...what the hell did you even blow up anyhow?"_

_"Prototype works, They're Peg's guys and it was a front for Hydra." She winced, her thigh still ached and her shoulder would always tell her when it was going to rain._

_Howard's eyes bugged. “It does? You got the cloaking to work?”_

_“Yeah, a little spotty but it got us back so…”_

_"So a few adjustments have to be made, alright…” he rubbed his chin in thought. Howard regarded her for a moment before remembering that he had been in the process of yelling at her “And that somehow does what? You still stole Stark property for the sole purpose of…"_

_"Makes it easier to do what we do."_

_"You, as I recall, didn't wanna do this part to begin with!"_

_"It's been twenty years Howard." Angie said darkly. “Don’t have much else.”_

_"I know that. You think I don't know that?"_

_"Do ya?"_

_"Angie. C’mon. I'm doing everything here...the company has become the leaders in tech, I’m competing with eggheads at The Baxter Group, that smartass Hank Pym, who by the way is some kinda small time crook I can feel it. Then I’ve got those morons at Roxxon Corp…I’m trying to save the world with SHIELD..."_

_"You haven't tried anything else."_

_"Angie, there isn't anything else! She’s alive and that’s what counts, isn’t it? I can’t stretch myself so thin and I can’t have you running around with the less than spry Howling Commandos putting holes in the Earth…"_

_“What else am I supposed to do? You wanted Steve for this job and he ain’t around so I guess it stands to reason that I’d do the same damned thing as he woulda done…”_

_“Yes but he had training…he knew what he was signing up for. He…”_

_“I’ve have training and I knew what I was doin’ climbing into that chamber, same as him.”_

_“He had…”_

_“He had Peggy. Say it. He had Peggy.”_

_Howard scrubbed his face with his hands. He pushed off the edge of his desk his hands shoved into his pockets, the change jangling against his clenched fingers. “He had people who could keep up with him.” He shrugged. “He had a little more in his favor and to be honest Angie? I dread the moment you’re out there and she wakes up and I’ve gotta tell her what you’re doin’.” He shrugged. “I can’t have that on my head.”_

_“That’s what you’re worried about? How you’re gonna tell her the same thing you’dve told me if the roles were different?” Angie’s face bunched into a grimace._

_“Well, y’know I hate being between you two…I mean in a personal sense…” Howard looked up from a spot on the rug, a ghost of a smile on his face._

_"She's not aging." Angie said quietly, avoiding Howard’s gaze._

_"Neither are you."_

_"Why?"_

_“I have no idea.” He shrugged again, slowly pacing back and forth in the office. She was beginning to resent the guy and his shoulders. “Wish I did. I could use some of that…” he joked, toeing a worn part of the rug. “You ask your friend, Dr. Strange?”_

_“No. He just keeps saying she’s there but…” she shrugged and sucked her teeth; the arm was still tender. She imagined this was the same discomfort Peggy felt after she’d been shot. She sighed. She used to stare at that shoulder while Peggy slept, running her fingertips along the twin scars, wondering what kind of maniac would take a shot at her before remembering she probably shot first._

_He looked up. “How’s the shoulder?”_

_“Fine.”_

_“You got shot, can’t be fine.”_

_“It’s fine.” Angie cringed as she rolled her shoulder for emphasis. “Healed up.”_

_“That part doesn’t creep you out?”_

_“You know it does.” Angie sniffed, folding her arms across her chest, grimacing at the pull in her shoulder. “All of this does.”_

_Howard nodded. “I said it’d be weird.” He said quietly, approaching his liquor cabinet. He pulled out two tumblers, dropped in ice and poured out bourbon. “To be honest, I didn’t know how far we’d get with him. Didn’t know what was going to happen. We just made something and hoped for the best.” He held out the first glass toward Angie who took it gingerly. She worried about him; he was drinking more often. “He wound up being far beyond anything we’d ever expected.”_

_“And me?”_

_Howard’s mouth twitched. “You’re even better than him.” He took a slow sip of his drink, eyeing Angie as he drank. “Heart’s twice as big.”_

_She sat down in the nearby armchair, cradling her drink in her hands, watching the amber liquid in the fine crystal glass. “I miss her.” She whispered, downing the drink and wincing as the liquor scalded it’s way down her throat._

_“I know you do.” Howard replied, sitting across from Angie. He sighed. “We did what we could. What we can. That Life Model Decoy? That thing’s gonna work wonders, you’ll see. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, S.H.I.E.L.D is led by one the top agents in the world, on a fast track to becoming Director for the nation’s best agency.”_

_“It’s not_ **her** _, Howard. She’s in the med ward, just…there…like sleeping beauty…and I can’t wake her up.”_

_“It’s enough of her to make things work.”_

_“For who? Who does that benefit? Who does that help?”_

_Howard stood up again and poured himself another drink. He wasn’t going to offer Angie a second round; he knew her metabolism would burn it right off and this was some damn good bourbon that shouldn’t be wasted. “It helps the people it’s supposed to.” He doubled his drink and dropped a second ice cube, watching it swim around in the amber liquid. “It helps the people she and Steve were tasked with protecting during the war.”_

_“The war is over.”_

_“Yeah? Where’d you take your little European vacation, Ang? Have you noticed the Russians lately? How ‘bout the Iranians? War doesn’t end and it doesn’t change, Angie, just the people and places involved.”_

_“And that’s who they’d protect?”_

_“The people of this country? You’re damned right that’s who they’d protect.” He took a sip of his drink, his lips pursed as the liquor burned down his throat. “There are young men and women, women you and Peggy are inspirations to by the way, signing up to join this branch every month. If LMD’s work, we wouldn’t lose so many people. We could just make…drones, we could make robots and automatons with the same level of understanding as a person without losing people.”_

_“I think you oughta cut back on the booze, you sound crazy.”_

_Howard waved Angie off. “It’s not the booze. It’s the future. We both know it. The world we started with that bomb, with Project Rebirth, with Genesis…” he waved his bourbon tumbler in the air, the ice dancing. “These are the things that happen when you start rolling the wheel, when you start, testing limits when you dare to do more than you thought you could. I haven’t made a weapon in years; you know that, you’re the last one I made. I have to think about the future, the world we can live in, the world we can make better.” He downed his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand._

_“You and I know that if it wasn’t the LMD doing it, it’d be Peggy herself. You’d be dealing with being the little lady left at home while she went off to fight Hydra or the red threat or the local homegrown nut jobs that pop up.”_

_The glass shattered in Angie’s grip, a jagged piece stuck in her palm. She was trembling as she stared at the piece, blood welling in the meat of her hand fully aware of the fact that Howard was watching her as she gingerly removed it leaving the piece on the end of the table. “You’re a real piece of work Howard Stark.” She stared at her palm, the blood welling as he approached, holding out his handkerchief. She took it with her good hand and wrapped her right hand. “I wouldn’t be the little lady left at home and you know it.” She stood up, the sudden movement making Howard flinch and take a step back. He’d become accustomed to her speed and strength but it still unnerved him. He girded himself as Angie spoke. “That prototype LMD is around because I said you could try it out with her because you have a vision that other people don’t quite get and she was the only one who understood your stupid ideas.”_

_“My stupid ideas…” Howard stammered. “My **stupid**_ _idea put you in that chamber, got you standin’ in front of me…”_

_“She protected you when nobody believed you were innocent. I put my neck out on the line for **her** when those goons at the SSR thought she was some kinda traitor with you and with Leviathan. She saw you better than most and still didn’t quite trust you and she still saw you that way when she left that night. When she left me. That stupid thing exists because of me, this place is because she had a vision for what good diplomacy could be and you had the means to make it happen. She’s in that med bay ‘cause of you, Howard, ‘cause she couldn’t say no to you. I need you to take a second and pretend you cared about that woman because you think having that robot walking around and acting like her is the same as actually having her here, it’s not. I’ve been taking sledgehammers to every Hydra and Leviathan base I can find ‘cause one of those bastards out there took the woman I love away from me and I will be damned if they think they can get away with it. So while you sit in here with your drink and your dreams of some bright and shiny future where you’re some kinda god, think of my future and some other stupid ideas to get her back.”_

* * *

* * *

         Peggy stirred at the sensation of Angie's lips on her shoulder, an appreciative purr issuing from her throat. "Did I fall asleep again?"

         "Yeah, I'm princess charmin’ waking you up." Angie murmured as she continued to leave butterfly kisses along Peggy’s right shoulder; she always had a soft spot for the scars there. She hoped Peggy hadn’t noticed her own scars as they made love.

         “You’re missing the very point of true love’s kiss.”

         “True love’s kiss?” Angie couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged on the corners of her mouth as she continued ghosting her lips against Peggy’s skin.

         “Yes.” Peggy mumbled groggily, rolling onto her back, eyes closed as she smacked her lips, the sheets bunching around her as she positioned herself in the center of the bed. “It’s supposed to be on the lips.”

         “You don’t say…”

         Peggy nodded her ‘yes’, her eyes still closed.

         Angie studied the woman in front of her, far removed from the woman she’d known decades ago; would she have flirted like that then? Were they even in a flirtatious place at that point? Did it matter? Peggy Carter was being adorable in bed.

         “Oh, so all I gotta do is just plant one on you and you’ll wake up?” she asked, her head cocked to the side in amusement as she inched closer on the bed. When Peggy didn’t answer she inched forward, bringing her face close to Peggy’s. She drank in her lively features, the warmth of her cheeks, the softness of her lips, the way she kept her breathing as even as possible. For a moment, Angie felt a rush of anxiety rising up in her throat; the entire time Peggy had been under she wished it had been that simple, a kiss would awaken her. She pushed back an errant lock of Peggy’s hair, kissing her forehead softly before she kissed the tip of her nose, her cheeks and chin before pressing her lips against Peggy’s. She shivered as Peggy’s arms wound around her waist, deepening the contact between. Angie felt tears spring up in her eyes as the kissed before she pulled away slowly, licking her lips and tasting Peggy on them. She sniffed and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as the bed shifted and Peggy sat up.

         “Angie?” she asked, her brows together knit together with concern as she reached out with her right hand clasping Angie’s left arm.

         “I’m good…It’s…” she sighed, covering Peggy’s hand with her own, she studied the way they instinctively connected, the corner of her mouth quirking into a soft smile.. “You got no clue how bad I wanted that to work when you were under” Angie said softly, watching the way Peggy’s hand wound around to interlock fingers with hers. “Every time I kissed your forehead I just wanted that to be enough to wake you…”

         Peggy gathered the sheets closer as she moved towards Angie and swung her legs over the side of the bed sitting up and holding the sheets to her chest. “I heard you…” she said softly. “Reading to me, talking to me…I thought, ‘one day she’s going to tire herself out’…” she chuckled. “You never did. Angie, I’m so so sorry I put you through this…”

         “C’mon Pegs, it’s not like you knew they were gonna throw you into that chamber…”

         “I shouldn’t have left.” Peggy replied, staring at her bare feet on the hardwood floor, her boots inches away. “I should’ve started to detach myself from that life…for your sake.”

         “Nevermind my sake…I knew what I was gettin’ into. Knew it when I let you into my apartment window and lied for you.” Angie answered softly, watching Peggy in her peripheral vision. She watched Peggy flex her toes, finding the action oddly endearing. “Not for nothin’, you wouldn’t have left for anythin’ if I meant more.”

         “You do mean more. You mean everything to me.” Peggy blurted out.

         “If that was the case, you woulda just stayed off field ops and just been the director…” came the reply. Angie winced at the tone of her voice; even she sounded bitter to herself. “There were things that had to get done. I get it. It’s over. You’re here, I’m here...we have a whole lifetime to just…be.” Angie sighed heavily, the weight of secrets and Natasha’s warning bearing heavily on her shoulders. She understood why Peggy was so wound up back then; she understood her need for distance and space, she couldn’t think otherwise. “I’m not mad at you.” She said finally, bringing her soft green eyes up to meet Peggy’s deep brown. “I’m mad at myself. I shoulda opened the door that night and given you a dozen reasons why you shoulda stayed.” She shrugged. “I know why you left and honestly, I woulda left too if it meant finding you. Hell, I was leavin’ at every chance I could to find the people who did this…”

         Peggy watched Angie’s expression as she stared off into the inky blackness of Peggy’s polished combat boots. She could see the storm of worry and regret raging in those eyes, eyes she’d come to love as she wiled away time at the Automat or in her room at the boarding house, eyes that lit up when she’d asked her to move in, eyes that sparkled when they danced and eyes that studied her while she read. Angie had been in love with her for a long time and she knew that the reason the woman was even sitting in this room was because of that love. She exhaled slowly. “I went because it was my duty, because I owed it to him. It wasn’t for the reason you did what you did.”

         “So you _didn’t_ love him?” Angie asked flatly, carefully avoiding Peggy’s steady gaze.

         “I admired him.”

         “What’s the difference?”

         “You can admire someone and never see anything from it and you can love someone and never see anything else again.” Peggy answered simply, canting her head into Angie’s line of sight. She brushed back a lock of Angie’s hair, tucking it behind her ear, her fingertips trailing Angie’s jaw before cupping her cheek.  “I admired what he stood for and who he was and he deserved to come home but I didn’t see him the way I saw you. I left that night and had to tuck myself away in the cargo hold. I keep my emotions in check but I couldn’t that night. I couldn’t bear the thought of you alone, of losing you. Once the mission was complete, once we found what we were looking for I was certain, I would lose you. I would come home to a letter and an empty home. I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could to come home to you, to prove to myself that you wouldn’t leave…”

         “So some dummy got lucky and trapped you in a chamber because you were distracted and homesick. Peggy, how is that supposed to make me feel better?”

         Peggy chuckled, taking the moment to wipe at her eyes with her knuckles, brushing away tears. “Howard Stark and Steve Rogers were two men who admired me, who believed in me when no one else would and at the time, I owed it to them and wanted to repay in kind.”

         “Who was respectin’ you then?”

         “You. I only ever needed you. Didn’t care much for anyone else’s opinions of me. I knew my value. Always have.”

         “That’s the thing Peggy, I’ve always valued you…” Angie sighed again. “I always have…I always will.”

         Peggy nodded. “That’s why we’re here isn’t it?”

         “’Cause I’m stubborn and you’re tough to kill.”

“There’s that.” Peggy tsked with an eyeroll.

         Angie nodded. _She doesn’t have to go to S.H.I.E.L.D look at everything she remembers._ She took Peggy’s hand and kissed her palm. “I love you, English, you know that?”

         “I do…”

         “Good. I’m gonna fix up something to eat and we’re gonna just stay in until we turn into useless blobs. How’s that sound?”

         “Lovely.”

* * *

 

         Natasha had about two solid minutes of sleep before her comm went off. She pushed up out of the cot in frustration, grabbing the offending piece of tech and putting it into her right ear.

        “What.”

         “Well hey sunshine but forget all that. What’s your twenty?” Clint greeted.

         “I _was_ sleeping…”

“I bet. You’re still in HQ?”

         “Yeah.”

         “Awesome. We’re en route.”

“You called to tell me that?”

         “You didn’t respond, we’re actually wandering the halls, love what you’ve done with the place…heading to see the doc, you coming?”

         Natasha sighed. She had been trained to survive sleep depravation before but after discovering the joys of down pillows and white noise, she’d learned to appreciate the joys of deep relaxation. She rolled her shoulders and stretched out her spine, vertebrae popping into alignment as she moved.. “After such a lovely invite? It’d be terrible to turn it down.” She remarked, closing the door behind her and heading towards the medical bay.

 

* * *

 

         “It’s a scratch, I told you…” Sam whined, his lip curled in discomfort.

         “Sam, the sock is soaked in blood.” Came the reply from the trauma nurse on duty. “It’s a little more than a scratch.”

         “It’s a really big scratch…” Sam answered, eyeing the needle warily.

         “C’mon Wilson, you fly around with a jetpack with wings, no helmet and no common sense, there’s no WAY you’re scared of needle…” Clint said with an incredulous headshake.

         “That thing is going _into_ the bullethole…” Sam grimaced, watching the preparation.

         “It’s gotta get treated man…unless you wanna lose the leg…that’d mess up your hairpin turns I’d imagine…” Clint grinned, his arms folded across his chest as she chewed gum, watching Sam cringing on the exam table. “Gangrene is real bad too right?”

         “It is quite unpleasant…” the nurse agreed with a dry smirk, tugging the curtain closed..

         “See, just, suck it up man.” Clint mock hollered. “I’ll hold your hand if you want…”

         Sam curled his lip and shut his eyes. “Fine just…ugh…” he grimaced, laying back in the bed as the needle worked around the wound.

         “They’re gonna analyze the samples and get back as soon as possible…” Steve said unceremoniously entering the exam room, his uniform jacket undone revealing a sweaty white undershirt. “How’s the leg.” He asked in the direction of the closed curtain.

         “It’s got gangrene and he’s gonna lose it…damn shame.” Clint remarked, looking up from a magazine he’d found lying around, a photo of Tony Stark on the cover.

         “No I don’t…Cap, I’m fine it’s just a…ayyyyyyeeeeeee….” Sam yelped as the nurse dug out the bullet, the round landing with a metal clink into a collection tin. “I’m good…” Sam gripped his calf in discomfort. “I thought you said that’d numb it…”

         “It does…you just need to relax…” the nurse chided, opening a fresh stitch kit.

         “So when do we go back out?” Sam asked, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling, trying to distract himself.

         “We don’t. We have to see what we’re dealing with…” Steve replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

         “Well, in the meantime, Barnes is still out in the wind…”

         “I’m aware. You think we can use Red Falcon on this?”

         Sam shrugged. “It’s still in prototype mode but there’s only one way to know, right?”

         “What’s Red Falcon?”

         “Sam’s new toy.” Steve remind with a simple shrug.

Clint made a face. “What’s it doooo?” he asked in a sing-song voice, tossing the magazine to the side with interest.

         “It’s a micro drone unit…Stark had it made for me.”

“How come he gets a drone?” Clint griped, shaking his head in disbelief.

         “He gave you every kind of arrowhead you can think of.”

         “Except the one that can pick up pizza.” Clint replied his lip curled.

         “Because obviously the drone would be capable of getting pizza.”

“Sam. Focus.” Steve snapped. “Can we use it?”

         “Yeah…it’s in the tech room…but it’ll only work if I can deploy it and it’s sent out somewhere where we can see it…I don’t think it’s broadcast range is up to snuff yet.”

         “I could probably fix that.” Natasha said leaning on the doorframe, arms folded across her chest.

         “Nat!” Clint greeted. “Good to see you…”

“Thanks for the help back there.” Steve replied with a nod. “Still think you’dve had fun with us.”

         “Eh. It’s not like it’s the last time you’ll have an awkward fight with a bunch of lackeys.”

         “Fair.”

         “What’d doc say about those samples?”

         “Well, they’re testing it up against some older version of it, no idea where _they_ got it from but,” Steve shrugged, “Eggheads tell me they’ll have something soon.” He pulled up a chair and nodded. “You okay?”

         Natasha nodded absently. “Fine. What’d you get on Barnes?”

         “He’s still fast. Think this guy’s been giving him that serum to keep him in line.”  Steve replied as he watched the nurse finish with Sam’s leg. “He knew what he was doing was wrong but…”

         “You sure about that? Felt like he was totally fine beating my ass…” Sam grumbled as he swung his leg over the edge of the bench, his lip curled as he stared at the offending stitches.

         “You admit he beat you up…” Clint smirked.

         “ _You_ were knocked out, so I’m gonna take that win.” Sam shrugged.

         “Typical, taking ‘wins’ wherever you can.” Clint replied, returning his arrow to its place. “We get anything on David Strucker? He’s got to be Hydra for sure.”

         “He’s Hydra, but our system is a little limited at the moment…” Natasha replied. “You know, fugitives and all.”

         “What about Tony? He’s probably…” Clint asked hopefully.

         “We’re not going to Tony for anything.” Steve replied, slipping out of his jacket and tossing it on the back of his chair. “We’ll do it the old fashioned way, we’ll root around the files here, start connecting the dots and go back out.”

         “Barnes is out there…and we have his uh, serum.”

         “He won’t and can’t get far, not without it.”

         “So what, we’re going to put it under a box like in the cartoons marked CREEP SOLDIER SERUM and hope he walks into it?”

         Steve shook his head. “We’re going to count on the fact that I’m still his mission. He’s going to be coming after me.”

         “Yep and he probably knows we’ve got his mojo, so he’ll be mega pissed...” Clint groused.

         Steve blinked for a moment, his eyes darting between Clint and Sam with bewilderment. “So while you guys are working on that end, I’m going back out to find him.”

         “I dunno Cap, that doesn’t sound like the move…” Sam warned. “He almost killed you. Twice.”

         “He hasn’t done it yet.”

         “Doesn’t mean you should give him the opportunity…” Clint added.

“I appreciate the concern but this is something I have to do. We can’t go at him as a group. Research what you can, I’ll take care of the rest.” He stood up, took his jacket and left.

         “He’s feeling bossy…” Clint said after a beat. “I’m gonna get some rest _then_ go on that research thing…Night.”

         Natasha nodded, watching Clint as he left. She felt Sam’s gaze on her. “What’s up?”

         “Was gonna ask you the same thing…” Sam replied, pushing off the table and gingerly testing his weight on his leg. “Something on your mind?”

         “Sleep mostly.” Natasha replied grumpily, stifling a yawn.

He nodded. “I get it. You trust him and he trusts you but you’re not fully trusting the mission.”

         “The mission? The guy took out half of DC, shot me, shot you, shot everybody, and destroyed S.H.I.E.L.D…”

         “From what I’m understanding, S.H.I.E.L.D. was in trouble to begin with.” Sam muttered halfheartedly. “He wants Bucky back because he owes it to him. You heard him, he could’ve killed him and he didn’t. They’re both…” Sam shrugged, searching for the right phrase, “Super powered guys with a shared past. They’re both vets from the same war and he needs someone he can really relate to, someone who’s just as lost as he is, someone he can trust.”

         Natasha’s mind flashed to Angie. After all this time, all their conversations, it was in this moment that she finally understood Angie’s paranoia; she didn’t want to be alone either. “It’s a little more than that.”

         “What is it then?” Sam asked, his arms folding across his chest as sat on the exam table, his leg swinging over the edge.

         “Sometimes you can’t fix broken things.”

         “Well, you’re right, you can’t. You make repairs, you adjust, you adapt. You learn and grow stronger from it.”

         “I forgot you’re a councilor.”

         “Therapist.” Sam grinned. “I’m a lot of things.” He shrugged and gingerly slid off the table and hobbled towards Natasha. “I’ve been around the guy long enough, I mean, not as long as you but, from what I can see, he’s got a plan. He’s not going to do something reckless.”

 

* * *

 

         Steve packed the last piece of gear into the side carriage of his bike. He checked the last coordinates on the second tracker he tagged Bucky with and fixed his helmet. He wheeled the bike out into the woods before starting it up and heading off.

 

* * *

 

 

         Bucky stared out of the window, watching the city zoom by. His head ached; the man he’d rescued and his team had been an unwelcome surprise. Strucker promised that he’d take care of him as long as he met at his next location; he would receive another treatment and things would start making sense again. He shut his eyes for a moment, reeling from the sensation of his stomach flipping and his head filling with static. He grit his teeth and leaned against the headrest, the engine’s low hum the calm before the storm.

         _He was on a train._

_They had been pinned down and he was certain if he were going to die, it’d be by his rules. He could hear Steve coming up and with a nod, they took out what they thought was the last of the Hydra goons._

_“Steve!”_

_He’d been hit by some strange blast and instinct took over._

_He’d grabbed his shield, held it up, taken shots to it, returned fire, fought through the fray and suddenly he’d been blown out of the car, hanging by a railing dangling over a ravine. He extended his hand, hoping to catch hold of Steve’s outstretched hand._

_Falling._

_The train is so far away._

_He knows he’s screaming, feels it in his lungs, the arctic wind whipping in his ears as plummets towards the bottom._

_He hit the ice-cold water, his left arm smashing into a boulder. He felt the bones crunch with the impact. As he struggled to surface, he realized his arm was utterly useless, the cold water felt like fire against his body as he traveled with the current, bashing into rocks along the way before he caught himself, held on and pulled himself up, his limbs screaming from shock._

_He stared up at the sky, the tracks looming far above as his head swam, his body ached and his arm…he closed his eyes and welcomed the darkness._

         Bucky’s eyes opened up suddenly, a thin sheen of sweat beaded on his upper lip and at his temples. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, the sensation of static in his ears as he rooted around the bag, finding clothes and a spare injection kit.

         _Steve._

_That was Steve who tried to save you._

His hand wrapped around the kit, squeezing it tightly in his grip, the casing denting under his fingers. He needed to ride this out; he had no idea what the dosage was and he couldn’t risk administering anything while on the train. He had no idea how many doses he could take and he needed Strucker to give him another round of proper treatments before he could figure out what to do. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand, trying to calm himself down. The men he encountered were all under some form of control.

         _You are not like them. You are your own man._

         He cracked his neck and slid lower in his seat, the streetlights zooming past as the train neared a station in the middle of New Jersey. The boarding pass said the final stop was New York City; _a strange homecoming_ he thought dryly. He had to find the humor in being on a train given that was how this all started for him. He flexed the fingers of his left hand, the metal felt cool against the top of his thigh. He pressed into the chair and tried to clear his mind, focusing on his breathing.

         _He can help you._

_He said he was in it til the end of the line._

_What does that mean?_

_Who are you now?_

_You can’t be James Barnes. Not anymore._

_They called you the Winter Soldier._

_Not anymore._

_Bucky._

_You have a mission._

 

 


	12. Fourth of July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angst keeps on rolling. Flashbacks and the moment you've been dreading.  
> Title - FallOut Boy - Fourth of July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken forever for me to update. Work is thankfully very time consuming. 
> 
> Follow up coming soon

 

12

Fourth of July

 

_1976:_

_She swore under her breath, watching the way the man with the silver arm vaulted over the short wall, sprinting towards the truck idling nearby, the Hydra agents in the truck firing in her direction as she stayed in pursuit. She pushed harder, muscles pumping as she hurdled over the same small wall like an Olympic sprinter. She could hear Duggan yelling in her ear piece, some strange wired contraption Howard thought would help aid in their communications efforts, the sound of her blood pumping and her boots thudding on the ground drowning out his protests and command to stand down. She saw bullets ripping a path ahead of her, no doubt coverage from the helicopter overhead, the cloaking device Howard tinkered with keeping it out of the line of return fire._

_He skidded to a stop and opened fire. Angie ducked down, pulling her Walther free from her thigh and returning fire. She skidded into the side of a parked car, the bullets plink-plink-plinking into the door, flattening the front tire as he sprayed the vehicle. Angie grit her teeth, moving along the opposite side of the car, using it as a shield as she rounded the rear bumper, watching as he mechanically dropped his empty magazine and reloaded to continue firing. Still crouched, she rounded the end of the car and fired two rounds into his side. He didn’t flinch; instead, he turned and fired in Angie’s direction. She dove out of the way behind the car, cursing again as she scrambled to her feet. She looked up at the sound of crunching metal; he leapt up onto the hood roof of the car, his lip curled as he leveled his gun towards her._

_She could still see some of Barnes in his wild eyes and shaggy hair, a black Zorro mask covering his face; he looked worse for the wear but she recognized him from his enlistment photo and some of documents they managed to collect on him. Were it not for the situation she would’ve laughed herself silly._

_Here he was, the bastard who’d hurt Peggy and here she was, frozen to the concrete staring down the barrel of his gun while her own forearms burned keeping her own gun up._

_He stood still, the gun wavering slightly in his grip as though he was weighing his options._

_He tossed the weapon, instead jumping down, knee first to land on top of Angie. In a split second, she rolled back heels overhead and put her own gun away. He swung wild with his right, using his left as a shield as he deflected her snap kick. She grimaced as her shin connected with the metal, pulling back out of reach as he lunged toward her, adopting her father’s southpaw stance. She struck with her left, connecting with his jaw before following up with a hard right shot to the kidney. He snapped his head forward, head butting her and using the momentum to grab hold of her wrists and kicking her square in the stomach, forcing her to fall face down onto the busted concrete. She groaned and braced herself for the inevitable kick to the ribs that was to come, rolling with the momentum and pushing up. She put her fists back up and kept moving, circling around him, the sound of gunfire and shouting background noises to the sound of her own labored breathing in her ears, watching as he pulled out a six inch black blade, flipping it around and mimicking her pose. He swiped up, crossing from her left hip towards her right shoulder, trying to gut her in one shot. She leapt backwards, using his surge forward to take advantage of the two bullet wounds in his side, landing a solid left hook into them. He let out a guttural noise, falling into the side of the car, the knife almost tumbling from his grip. She took advantage and tried to bash his head into the car door, only to have him wildly swing the blade backwards, slicing her forearm and forcing her to back off. He spun and went for another strike, this time with his left hand, knowing she wouldn’t be able to block it with her arms without risking serious fractures to her forearms. He came down hard, Angie stepped into him, dropping her shoulder into his ribs and tackling him to the ground. The wrestled, the blade moving between them as they battled for control; he was terrifyingly fast, a blur of metal and flesh as he alternated his grip between the blade, Angie’s wrist and back again._

_“BARNES!” Angie exclaimed as she worked her knees into the wound, earning another guttural scream from the masked man. “We’re trying to help you!!”_

_He screamed in response, the blade in his right hand forgotten as he swung with his left, knocking Angie off. She rolled away, clutching her face, mouth pooling with blood as she saw stars and was certain he’d broken her jaw. She spat and looked up as he sat up and reached for a second blade. “Bucky! Stand down!” Angie commanded, trying to push herself up. He took a tentative step, his lip curled as though he were debating the pros of killing her and the cons of even entertaining conversation. “Barnes, we’re here to help you…” Angie insisted between clenched teeth, pushing up finally, face caked in blood and dirt, the right side swelling, her green eyes burning bright. She was sweating and the son of a bitch hadn’t even bothered to brush back his bangs. She brought her fists back up, rolling her shoulder and bracing for another strike. ‘Avoid the ropes, stay in the middle, keep movin’_

_“We’re trying to bring you home, we’ve been looking for you…” she continued, moving around, circling him as she eyed the blades, grimacing at the prospect of tangling with him._

_He stood still, flexing his knuckles, the blades glinting in the sunlight. Angie felt the air charge up around her, the wind kicking up; the helio was just above her and a harness dropped down, the magnets in her tactical vest activating and pulling her up without warning._

_“WAHHOOOO!” Dum Dum exclaimed as Angie was hoisted up like a fish on a line._

_“DAMNIT STOP WAHOOING AND PUT ME DOWN!! I GOT HIM!!! I GOT HIM!!”_

_Dum Dum pulled Angie in, a goofy smile on his face as he slammed the door shut and McCord took off. “Almost thought we lost you there…”_

_“Damnit!” Angie roared, socking Dugan in the chest before standing up and staring out of the window, watching as the legendary Winter Solider sheathed his blades, staring up into the sky. “I had him…” Her punch left a small dent in the hull of the helicopter._

_“It looked like your goose was gonna get cooked kid…” Dugan replied. “We got the chancellor though…so, it wasn’t all lost…”_

_Angie closed her eyes, careful to not flex her jaw in anger. “Good to know…” She turned and moved towards the benches, slipping out of her jacket, her sweat slicked tank top sticking to her body before she gingerly sat down. She flexed her knuckles and rolled her neck on her shoulders. He was so damned fast, it was terrified her; she didn’t think she was the type to scare so easily. She looked up as Dugan approached, a flask of whisky opened and extended towards her. “I shoulda shot him. I had a clean shot. I hit him twice in the ribs and he didn’t even…” she took the flask, careful not to bang her split lip on the spout. She swallowed, grateful for the burn of the liquid; it distracted her from the discomfort she was feeling in her cheek and along her ribs. “I shoulda killed him.”_

_“What good woulda that done?” Duggan asked, refusing the flask as Angie tried to hand it back. He sat down next to her, his age starting to show a bit with a grunt as he settled in. “Woulda brought us no closer to a solution.” He took a swig and grinned._

_“’Sides, we’re trying to bring him in alive if I’m understanding this thing correctly…” he tapped his left ear, where his new Stark Industries earpiece sat, for emphasis._

_“I woulda felt a helluva lot better.” Angie replied with a shake of her head, taking another pull from the flask, swishing it around in her mouth, blood tanging the liquor before swallowing._

_“For a little bit maybe.” He sighed. “Lemme get you something for the face.” He pushed up from the seat, leaving Angie to sit alone, the helicopter’s engine lulling her to sleep._

_During the debriefing, everyone on the board stared at Angie, a collective gasp as they took in the sight of her; banged up face, bloodied knuckles and filthy S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, her shirt unbuttoned revealing a dingy tanktop. She made sure to mention that the chancellor was unharmed, appeared to be a small pawn in a bigger game and that he was to be escorted home after he was debriefed. She suspected him to be Hydra but that was something she would have her team properly confirm; McCord was excellent at extracting information._

_She turned over her information about the Winter Soldier to the team and left without another word, fully aware that Hank Pym and Howard Stark were exchanging worried looks with the secretary of defense who was seated to their right. She didn’t care. She had to take make a stop at the medical bay before a shower and her night-time chat with Howard._

_Angie winced as the nurse adjusted the bandage around her ribs. It’d taken three stitches to patch up her cheek and twelve to treat her forearm. She watched with mild fascination as the needle worked, grimacing with the pinch and bite and thought that her flawless skin was slowly being marred. Both she and the nurse knew the stitches and scarring were for show; she would be fully healed in a few days. She sighed, looking up as Duggan’s knuckles gently rapped at the door. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to another ‘Angie stop doing this’ speech but seeing as she was being tended to and somewhat sedated, it wouldn’t kill her to listen._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Heya, Brooklyn…” Dum Dum said by way of greeting. He’d stopped wearing his hat indoors and looked smaller without it. He had lost a little bit of weight and was graying faster every day. It broke Angie’s heart to see him aging while she stayed the same. “How’re you feelin’?”_

_“Like I got hit by a truck…” Angie remarked._

_“You almost done? I can wait…”_

_“Almost…” the nurse replied for Angie, glancing up with a knowing look. “Try not to do anything serious for the next few weeks.” She wrapped Angie’s arm up, cleaning up the space and heading out. “She’s all yours, Dum Dum.”_

_He sheepishly entered the exam room, pulling his hands out of his pockets as he took a seat. “Listen…”_

_"Only reason I'm doing this is because she would be doing it." Angie cut him off, knowing where he was going before he even finished._

_"She has a knack for this, Brooklyn, sorry. She would hate to see you doing this, no matter how neat you look doing it." Dum Dum admonished. “And you looked pretty damned cool doing it.” She had shucked her work pants and boots, sitting in her tanktop and underwear on the exam table. Angie pulled her tanktop down, covering the bandages and holding Dum Dum’s gaze. She would’ve been self conscious about the state she was in but she was over caring about little things; she had started to care less about a lot of things._

_"So what am I s'possed to do? I can keep sitting by her bed waiting, not when the bastard who did this is out there."_

_"And he'll still be out there with ‘er without you chasin' him." He sighed. "Look, the boys and I we love ya but...we're gettin a little long in the tooth here." He leaned back in his chair and winced for emphasis. "We aren't as young as we wanna be...McCord is about to take the Director position and..." he rubbed his palms together. “We think you should get a new team together and let them run these field ops from now on. It’s safer and you can run Logistics division, recruitments and training…We’re ready to get out of the line of fire. McCord is ready to stop running into the fire himself and who knows, maybe something will be different. Change ain’t so bad…”_

_Change wasn’t so bad, sure, if you could appreciate it the way one usually would. She saw the same face every day. She saw the former Automat waitress turned actress transform into the black ops SSR turned S.H.I.E.L.D operative in the same span Dum Dum and Howard saw grey hairs appearing at their temples. "Don't say it." Angie said flatly, her eyes closed for the briefest of moments. She wanted so badly for the drugs the nurse gave her to knock her out; stupid metabolism burning them to ash. “And when McCord is done sitting his ass in the office not doing anything? What next?”_

_"Me. Then Robo Peggy..."_

_Angie groaned. "I hate that thing."_

_"You're the one that said to do it. If you didn’t want it, all you had to do was say no." Dum Dum replied. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up. "She gives me the creeps too. Real lights on nobody home kind of thing..." He leaned forward resting his knees on his elbows. "Keeping appearances, I get it but what I don't get is you going out on the field all the time. Lookacha. You’re a mess…You hated when she did it and she hated when she did it to you, it makes no sense to keep repeatin’ the cycle."_

_“I’ll stop when I know either he’s dead, captured or she’s awake.”_

_“Some high stakes.”_

_Angie shrugged. “What else is there? I sit here, give everyone the heebee jeebees, I go out there I still give everyone the heebee jeebees.” She stared at her palms, the small calluses that formed along the tops of her palms where the Walther sat. “I don’t think she’s coming back to me Dum Dum.” She said softly, eyes watering with the thought. She blinked back tears she refused to spill, grinding her back teeth as she swallowed hard._

_“Course she is, kid, ‘course she is. She’d be dumb not to, considering all the fire and brimstone you’re bringin’.” He chimed, a soft smile pulling at the left side of his mouth. “All the epics have heroes doing something nutty for love.” He grinned. “You know, to hell and back and all.”_

_“How’s Sarah?” Angie asked, deflecting._

_“Mad at me.” He replied sheepishly. “See, I can’t keep goin’ out there…not anymore anyway. Not that way.”_

_“See, I don’t have anybody worryin’ about me so…” Angie replied with a shrug, sliding off the table and reaching for her pants. Dum Dum had the courtesy to spin around and offer her some privacy as she stepped into her battered pants. “Course you do!” Dum Dum he continued without missing a beat, his back turned to her. “I’m worried about you, Howard, Pym…hell, even if he’s all…weird and spooky so’s Strange. You’ve got a whole buncha people wanting to keep you safe…”_

_Angie zipped up her pants and reached for her boots, grunting with the effort of pulling them closer and working her socks back onto her feet. “And I appreciate all of you but…”_

_“How bout I step in as Director? Insteada…you know….”_

_“I wouldn’t ask you to do that…”_

_“I ain’t askin your permission. I’m saying that I’d do that for ya if it meant you stayed here and kept up with her upkeep. I’d even keep her away from you, shove her into a broomcloset or somethin’.”_

_“Just to keep me from finding Barnes?”_

_Dum Dum stirred. “It’s really him.”_

_“Yeah. Recognized him. I was pretty close.”_

_“Jeeze…” he scrubbed at the back of his head. “So…when he fell off that train…they scraped him up and did that to him?”_

_“Looks like it.”_

_Dum Dum shook his head in horror. “That’s…that’s sick.”_

_Angie laced up her boots enough to be able to walk in them without tripping all over herself. She was suddenly deliriously tired and the longer she and Duggan spoke, the more her body begged for a meal, shower and silence. “Yeah well…that’s what happens when you cook miracles in labs y’know.”_

_“You weren’t cooked up.” Dum Dum said, standing up and gingerly holding Angie by the shoulders. “You’re a fighter, just like her and…you’re stronger than you know. We’ll figure something…I just…just think about the offer okay?”_

_“You’d take the job without me anyhow.”_

_“How you figure?”_

_“All the whisky and cigars you can tolerate plus tellin’ everyone what to do?”_

_Dum Dum blushed. “Alright, maybe. But I mean it about shovin’ that thing into a broom closet.”_

_Angie let the water run, realizing that taking a shower after a patch job was probably not the best move. She didn’t care as she stepped into the steaming water, the grime immediately running off her skin. She closed her eyes and let the pressure bead down between her shoulders, running down her back, soothing her sore muscles as she lulled her head, her hair a limp curtain around her shoulders. She’d started letting it grow out again after cutting it to just under her ears. She remembered once, a lifetime ago, when she’d started growing it Peggy’s comment about it being lovely at that length. She scrubbed at her scalp. She needed to talk to Howard about the LMD being on the premises while Peggy was in the level 9 medical chamber; the odds that someone would question the existence of two Agent Carters in a secure facility increasing the more people Howard granted clearances to. She needed to move her into the house or something. She shuttered. She didn’t like that idea either. Maybe they could move the LMD the hell out of the building, use her only when necessary, ideally, never. She shivered again. She hated that thing. She had no idea what she was thinking when she agreed. It was aged, elegant and poised the way Angie imagined Peggy would be. It. It’s an it. It’s a clock with a voice box, she reminded herself._

_She tilted her head up, the water stinging her face and creating patterns against her eyelids but the sensation immediately distracted her from dark thoughts. She was going to talk to Howard._

_Howard was staring up at a large radar screen. “What the hell is that…” he muttered, leaning closer to the monitor, squinting and tilting his head from side to side as the long line blipped over a small mass. He jotted down the coordinates on a nearby pad, staring at the cluster as it flickered and disappeared._

_“Looks like a blob from here.”_

_“Aw jeeze…” Howard said startled, banging his knee against the cabinet door. “Don’t do that…”_

_“What, walk into a room while you’re starin’ at…what is that?” She entered Howard’s office. She’d changed into a pair of flair jeans, Converse sneakers and a fading Dodgers tee shirt. She tied her hair back and had Peggy’s light blazer draped across her bandaged arm._

_“Working on a new radar system…sonar with a little somethin’ extra.” He replied, taking a step back and staring at the image while a printer produced an image in dots._

_“What’s the extra?”_

_“High frequency pulses and mapping technology.”_

_“What for?”_

_“I’m mappin’ the ocean floor.”_

_Angie’s eyes flicked from the screen to the printer to Howard’s profile. “What for?” she asked again, knowing it was going to be a classic Howard Stark answer._

_Howard rolled his eyes. “What for…” he grunted. “Because I’m curious about the ocean.”_

_“No you’re not.”_

_Howard turned his gaze away from the screen towards Angie, blanching at the sight of her face up close. “Jeeze, Ang…”_

_“You should see the other guy.”_

_Howard shook his head. “I’m pulling you off the field. Effective immediately. This is getting’ outta hand.”_

_“You’re not **technically**_ _the Director.” Angie corrected, her eyes flicking across the screen and landing on various maps with different dates and times on them, all of the information the same; Howard was looking for something in the middle of the Atlantic. She made the mental note to jot that down into her notebook._

_“I’m on the board, plus, it’s my money, so, there’s that.” Howard responded petulantly. “Did you atleast go to the med bay after?”_

_“Yeah. Just can’t go doin’ silly things for a few weeks but…c’mon…”_

_“You need time off. Go to the beach or something.”_

_“You just ‘fired’ me now you’re givin’ me time off, which is it?”_

_Howard folded his arms across his chest. “It’s both…I don’t know.” He gave her a pained expression rubbing at his jaw with thought. “I…look…seeing you like that in front of the board…no. We’re not doing that again. The Howling Commandos are retiring, effective immediately. They’re taking safe desk jobs and we’re going to work on recruitment strategies, build out a strong team.”_

_“Dum Dum mentioned somethin’ like that.” Angie replied, tilting her head and committing the data to memory. “I can’t do that.”_

_“Yes you can. You’re Logistics. Be logical. You’re training, recruitment, you’re espionage trained…you’d be perfect.”_

_“So he could do this to someone else? So he could hurt other people…I’ve got to stop him.”_

_“He’s not for you to stop. Or anyone. It’s a team effort. We have to get the right people together to do it, Ang. You’re one helluva a fighter but I can’t…I can’t have my best friend out there like that. Not anymore. That’s why I wanted Peggy, our Peggy, as the Director.”_

_Angie snorted. “So I could be the little lady waiting at home.”_

_“C’mon…” Howard huffed. “You know it wouldn’t have been like that…I was being an ass…”_

_“Per usual.” Angie smirked, wincing a bit, her busted lip stinging with the effort. “What’re you staring at anyhow?”_

_Howard glanced back at his maps. “Just…testing a theory.”_

_“Theory. Y’know, you’re getting’ more and more secretive…”_

_He shrugged. “I’m not sure what I’m workin’ with yet.”_

_“That why you want me here? So I can follow along with you and then get sent out to find whatever it is?”_

_“I need you to stay here. Alright? Promise me you’ll just, stay put and do…boring things.” He turned to the print out, laying a piece of plastic on top of it and drawing something onto it._

_“This is boring to you?” Angie asked, stepping closer, watching as Howard drew lines. “How’s Maria?” Angie asked, changing the subject, watching the way he continued working on the schematic, brows knit with thought._

_Howard stopped what he was doing, the cap of the marker he was using clenched between his teeth. “She’s good.” He managed to say._

_“She worry about you here? Late?”_

_“Sure.”_

_“Anthony? How’s he doing?”_

_Howard capped the marker and propped it behind his ear. He leaned against the end of the table, folding his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed in thought. “Tony’s fine. You should stop by sometime. What gives?”_

_Angie shrugged, her eyes drifting to the green screen, watching the thing that distracted Howard blipping away. Whatever it was, it was massive and apparently rooted to one spot.  “Dum Dum’s got Sarah, Gabe’s been married for years, Pinky is…Pinky…Everyone’s got something and I got this.” Angie said quietly, her eyes suddenly glossy with tears she was refusing to shed. She shut her eyes, tamping down the rush of emotions. “I can do boring but…that was the old me y’know? I made it to Broadway, that was fresh and new and different and I had Peggy and that was…” she sighed, “the greatest moment of my life. We were happy, we were together, things made sense and then. After all this, I can’t do boring.”_

_“You can’t do dead either.” Howard interjected._

_“Just promise me that you’ll tell Maria you love her, every day, alright? Even if you’re here late and Jarvis won’t pick you up because Anna said no, you should make it a point to get home.”_

_Howard nodded. “I will. You know I will.”_

_Angie stared at the screen again before shaking her head. “It’s the Bicentennial. You should get home and take Tony out to see some fireworks.”_

_“He’d like it if Aunt Angie came with.”_

_“’Fraid I’d be no fun.”_

_“It would’ve been his birthday today.”_

_Angie bristled. Here she was agonizing over the prospect of being alone for good and Howard was talking about Steve. She nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna stick my face in a freezer. Get out of here Howard.”_

_“I’ll see you Ang…” Howard nodded and watched Angie leave, the door clicking softly behind her. He returned to his map and studied the coordinates._

_The Tesseract was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, emitting some powerful electromagnetic waves. He studied the seismograph readings, seeing the lines shift and change. The ship had to be somewhere nearby and if it was, it meant he was closer to finding Steve and the tesseract than he’d ever been._

_She spent time sitting with Peggy, reading, studying her vitals, avoiding Stephen’s gaze before he left for the night. She kissed Peggy’s forehead, whispering I love you before tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and leaving._

_She didn’t want to go home, not after the day she’d had._

_She was glad decided to take the trip into Brooklyn and sit out on a rooftop with some people who didn’t question why her face was banged up because they were all fairly hammered._

_The fireworks were beautiful._

_She watched the way they lit up everyone’s faces as they stared up into the sky. She remembered one of the last Fourths she’d spent with Peggy on their property, fingers intertwined, a little buzzed from the champagne Howard had sent before falling into bed, drunk and deeply in love._

_She reclined into a beach chair, stared up at the bright lights erupting against an inky black. Her eyes watered. She missed Peggy. She missed the simplicity of her life. She missed the times they spent in the house, watching the sky, making wishes and whispering dreams into each other’s ear before falling into bed. She downed the cold beer she’d been handed and let herself cry under the bright lights of the Fourth of July._

 

Angie watched Peggy scraping her plate, humming appreciatively as licked the tines of her fork. “What?”

         “Never seen you put it away like that, English.” Angie chuckled, wiping away a dollop of sauce from the corner of Peggy’s mouth with the left thumb. “I’m a little flattered.” She blushed when Peggy lapped at the pad of her thumb with her tongue.

         “Compliments to the chef.” Peggy replied with a shrug, wiping the mouth with a napkin. “It was quite delicious.”

         “Glad you liked it.” Angie replied, clearing the plates from the table and heading towards the sink. She could feel Peggy’s gaze on her back as she turned on the faucet, rinsing the dishes off before generously soaping up a sponge and scrubbing away. “What.” She said, glancing over her shoulder.

         “You have scars.” Peggy said softly, making note of the way Angie’s shoulder stiffened.

         “One or two, I was always kinda clumsy.” Angie replied dismissively, putting one plate into the dish dryer and fixating on a particularly spotless spot on the next plate.

         “Clumsy enough for bullet wounds?”

         Angie stopped her task, her hands soapy as she ran them under the water, wringing them out before shutting off the faucet and reaching for a nearby towel to dry them. “Would it help if I told ya I got the last shot?”

         “Not at all.” Peggy replied flatly. “What happened?”

         Angie shrugged. “Missions…”

         “How many?”

         Angie moved her mouth, an exasperated noise escaping her lips before she literally threw in the towel and returned to the table, pulling her seat out and sitting down. “I ran a few. _That_ I told you about.” Angie replied with an arched eyebrow, reaching for Peggy’s right hand, cradling it between her palms. “My second to last one was the one that gave me this,” she showed the faint scar that ran along the back of her left forearm. “Ones before that, I was taking care of a Hydra base and wound up taking a few shots…”

         “What was the last one?”

         “Rescue op.”

         Peggy reached out for Angie’s shoulder with her left, brushing her fingertips along the scars. Angie watched the way Peggy’s fingertips trailed along the phantom injuries, the ghost trails from bullets that whizzed by her, the faint scars that marred her skin, concern etched into her fine features. Angie smirks before looking up and catching Peggy’s gaze. “We should head back to bed…”

“Don’t change the subject.” Peggy warned, nodding towards Angie’s shoulder. “Why would you run these missions…?”

“Because you weren’t there to stop me.”

Peggy is taken aback. She swallows the lump in her throat before continuing. “If things were different, I would be behind a desk permanently. Especially back then.”

“Maybe. You were pretty spry.” Angie said with a smirk. She shrugged. “I just…I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t wait. I didn’t have it in me to wait. I mean I did but I also didn’t want to. Every second wasted waiting was a second I could’ve used to find a solution for your condition.”

“I woke up on my own.”

“I know…” Angie rested her forearm on the table, leaning closer toward Peggy as she studied her knuckles in thought. “I was there…” _I was there for Steve too. Not many people there for me._ “It was…it was like all my prayers had been answered. Every single one.” Her vision blurred and she avoided Peggy’s gaze, focusing on her knuckles before closing her eyes, tears spilling. She felt Peggy’s hands on her cheeks, warm, comforting before her lips pressed against hers, soft and urgent. She let herself enjoy this, the feeling of being loved and cared for, Peggy’s lips kissing away tears, softly murmuring something she couldn’t quite make out before letting herself be pulled into Peggy’s strong arms. She curled into her, her fingers tangling into the fabric of Peggy’s clothing, a sob escaping her lips as she let herself drown in Peggy’s embrace.

            Angie wasn’t sure when they wound up back in bed, but when she woke, she was tangled up in the sheets and the bed was empty. She wiped at the corner of her mouth with the back of her left hand, squinting in the darkness. “Peg?” she called, her voice thick with sleep. Groggily, she pushed up and out of bed, toes searching for the house shoes she kept tucked under the bed. “Peg?” she called again, combing her fingers through her hair and pulling it into a ponytail as she shuffled around out of the bedroom. Her heart sank at the sight of the light on in her office.

            “Oh God.”

 

            Peggy sat in the reupholstered leather armchair, staring at the screen in fascination. She was looking at information that once upon a time would’ve lived on microfilm blinking back at her; her old notes brought to life along with vivid photos She scrubbed at her face with both hands, lifetimes stretched in front of her on a computer.

         She stared at the screen, reading the notes from her file in complete shock. She had been trapped in a chamber, injected with something and they engaged in a firefight with some man with a silver arm. She could hear Angie but barely registered the soft "Peg..." that marked her entry. She heard the door open and didn’t turn in her chair. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, listening as Angie approached.

         "The man with the arm. That's James Barnes." She said quietly her jaw set.

         "Yes."

         "They were attempting to do the same thing to me."

         "Yes."

         She opened her eyes again, taking in the screen, a mixture of anger and sadness in her tone. "Tony was right. This is insane."

         Angie shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants, lips pursed. "Peg..."

         "You hid this. You hid my files from my time in the SSR. How could you?"

         "It's..."

         "Complicated? Yes I've gathered that much." She stood up, her back still to Angie before turning, her shoulders squared as she studied Angie, seeing her in a completely different light. "You hated my being an agent and keeping secrets and here you are doing the same thing. Why?"

         "Same reason you did. To keep you safe."

         "Angie, you were a civilian. I had no other option, there were people who were actively attempting to end the world. People who would actively kill anyone in their way.”

         “I’m not seeing the difference, English.” Angie scrubbed at her face with exasperated hands.

         "So the solution was to lie." Peggy said coldly. She turned again, arms folding across her chest, that Carter stare pinning Angie in place like a trapped butterfly. "They made you into a proper agent didn't they."

         "Peggy...please...I can explain."

         "You've had me home for _days_ Angie. You've had every opportunity to explain."

         "It ain't as easy as you think."

         "Hence my finding everything here on my own. What's here isn't so impossible to explain asides from the bloody chamber they had me in and the science behind your transformation. That's just..." Peggy shrugged in resignation. “Why can’t I access anything?”

         “Clearance protocol.” Angie replied, shaking her head in defeat. “The computer knows you’re not me.”

         Peggy blinked at the screen for a moment. She pursed her lips, averting her gaze from the computer screen and staring at a well worn spot in the rug. "I want to know one thing."

                   "Anything."

         "Why would you lie to me?"

         Angie saw the crack in Peggy's tough facade, eyes burning with tears they both knew she wouldn't let fall, not yet. Angie could feel her tenuous grip on everything slipping away from her. She knew it was impossible to have everything; she knew it was going to come to this but she had convinced herself that it would be years off or that Peggy would understand her reasoning behind the deception.

         "I told you why. For the same reason you lied to me back then. "Cause I’m hearing the same logic you had back then. There’s a world that'd take you from me all over again. You lost Colleen because things were dangerous...you kept me in the dark for so long…and I just…I couldn’t risk it. I need you safe." Peggy's mouth moved in surprise as Angie continued. "I kept you in a specialized ward away from everyone who would blab until we figured out what we could do. I had nightmares about someone finding out you weren't exactly... and..." She scrubbed at her face with her hands again, using the opportunity to start pacing because it meant she wasn't trapped under Peggy's gaze and could think logically for a moment. "Pegs, I didn't want to lose you twice in a lifetime. I told ya this a dozen times already. I was gonna tell you everything in time, ease you into the world and..."

         "Take me to S.H.I.E.L.D." Peggy replied curtly, brushing past Angie and heading towards the bedroom, “I expect someone to give me an answer without trying to sugar coat everything.” She said coldly, the door clicking softly behind her; she turned over the lock. Angie buckled, exhaling shakily as she braced herself against the doorframe, fresh tears tracking down her cheeks.

Peggy closed her eyes and let out a shuttered breath. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she walked into the bathroom, tears streaming down her face. _She needed answers._

 

 

 

            Fury hated getting late calls but when the reason was a good one, he’d learned to suck it up. She sounded upset and he couldn’t fault her; they’d warned Martinelli it wasn’t going to be easy working with one of the best and trying to keep a lid on things. He sighed as he rubbed his temples with his fingers, doing his best to stay awake and try to resist the urge to say I told you so.

 

            The car ride was quiet, Angie staring straight ahead, occasionally glancing at Peggy who stared out of the passenger side window, watching the landscape.

 

            Natasha dozed, her comm resting on the nightstand as she slept face down, drool moistening her pillow.

 

            Strucker closed his laptop, removing the hard drive and holding magnet to it, frying the drive; the Soldier could pick up the plan from here. He finished his coffee and tossed the cup into the trash, shouldering the backpack with the useless laptop in it.

 

            Steve doubled back in frustration. The tracker either died or Bucky had fished it out altogether and destroyed it. He nearly crushed the throttle to his bike under his grip on his ride back to base.

 

            They had been winding around back roads for a half hour, taking the route that would allow them to talk and Angie instantly regretted it because it just kept chipping away at her heart and resolve. They were in a car; they should just leave and disappear Angie could deal with Peggy being pissed at her for a while. Peggy was trained to serve, conditioned to continue while she was just trying to keep herself together, scrape out with cash and start over. She was wanted to spill secrets to Peggy. The X-Men and Fantastic Four, Matt Murdock and his Defenders; she knew the minute the information left her mouth it meant that she was admitting that the world was much worse now than it was then. Perhaps it became more unbearable and that was why so many men and women stepped forward out of the shadows to protect the innocent; maybe they didn’t need S.H.I.E.L.D or anyone else, maybe they didn’t need to be here. Maybe this was the last time she would ever have to be here and they could just move on with their lives, trusting the people in place to continue the work they started.

Angie eased the car into a hidden driveway, shut off the engine and closed her eyes for a moment before she turned in her seat to face Peggy. “I went through this paralyzing fear every single day you walked out that door.” She said evenly, breaking the silence between them. She realized Peggy was staring out of the passenger window, probably watching her reflection in the glass. Angie swallowed hard. “Once I knew you weren’t at the phone company and after that mess at the movie theater I just…I didn’t wanna hear about work while I was patchin’ you up. Even when we moved into Howard’s place, it was killin’ me, washing blood out of your clothes and makin’ sure there was enough ice and concealer to cover up your bruises an’ keep the swellin’ down.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat as Peggy turned to face her. She blinked away tears, doing her best to not melt under the weight of Peggy’s gaze. “You never noticed how tight I’d hold you at night? I never knew if you’d be back. I didn’t care about Souza stickin’ up for you while Thompson was bein’ an ass. I didn’t want to know that they were working you to the bone because you’re a woman, cause you were overqualified and you were the better agent. D’you think I liked Howard crowin’ about how good you are? That you were some kinda superhero in heels? That life never did anything for me. I was impressed with _you._ You’d walk into the automat, all quiet…smile that smile.” Angie sniffled for a moment, staring out of the windshield, her eyes glassy with tears she was refusing to shed. “Those eyes, the legs…how you could just walk in there every day and take that kind of disrespect…that impressed me. The gun stuff, the explosions…” Angie shook her head dismissively, blinking quickly to chase away tears that threatened to spill. She pursed her lips in frustration. “It just scared the hell outta me. I didn’t want that life for you anymore and when they were makin’ associate director, I thought, finally, Howard is looking out for us. That night…I hated you for leaving me and going off guns blazing into danger,” Angie let out a mirthless chuckle, wiping at the corners of her eyes with her thumbs. “then I went around and did it myself.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I guess I’m a hypocrite.”

            “No you aren’t.” said Peggy, her voice betraying nothing.

“Yeah well, whatdaya call someone who willingly subjects herself to some crackpot science just to keep the woman she loves safe?”

Peggy’s mind immediately thought of Steve in the lab the day he received the treatment. _A hero? A patriot?_ She imagined Angie, sweet, kind Angie standing in a similar room, terrified and alone stepping into a chamber and coming out changed. Peggy didn’t have a good enough answer for that. Angie swallowed hard. “That’s why you want to leave.” Peggy said finally.

“I’ve done my duty. I served and I deserve to have my chance at a happy retirement. So do you.”

“You lied.”

“You _don’t_ know what it was like. I agonized over all of this.”

“Keeping the truth from me?”

“Everything.”

Peggy wordlessly slid out of the car, closing her door and heading towards the facility.

            The halls felt foreign despite the amount of time Peggy had spent there, under everyone’s scrutiny, being lied to, studied. Even her time spent in the mansion felt like a distant memory despite having just left only hours before. She couldn’t hold it against her; Angie’s logic was as sound as hers was way back when. That fear of finding someone, despite knowing that it was dangerous, the need to keep them safe and doing everything possible to do so could drive anyone to do insane things. _Like climb into a chamber and become a super soldier._ She could feel Angie’s anxious energy next to her as they walked towards the meeting room Fury had designated.She felt more like a terrified girlfriend than a seasoned field agent. Despite being angry, Peggy still had to chuckle at the name, Nicholas Fury; he’d sounded downright pleased on the phone. _Bet he’d be willing to tell her the truth as well._

 

            Steve wheeled the bike back into the garage and tossed his helmet into the corner in anger. Hydra was alive and well, his best friend was still firmly under their control and Fury wasn’t giving him more resources to detain Bucky. He still didn’t understand the politics of the silent wars S.H.I.E.L.D was engaged in, it felt deceitful and compromised everything he believed in. He couldn’t imagine Peggy having signed off on the S.S.R becoming S.H.I.E.L.D if this was what it was going to become and it bothered him to know he wouldn’t be able to ask her; she was so far gone. He slid out of his jacket and tossed that onto the back of the bike as well; he’d pick up his laundry in the morning, apologizing all the while. He scrubbed his face with his hands in agitation before picking up his gear, grabbing his jacket and tossing it over his left arm and leaving the garage in a huff.

            He pressed the button for the elevator rolling his head on his shoulders, looking forward to the shower and sleep that he desperately needed. He always took the stairs; there was something comforting about the constant mundane motion that he appreciated. The elevator dinged it’s arrival and Steve dragged himself across the threshold into the cab, head hanging low while he contemplated next steps.

           

            Fury had a strong grip and he shook his hand after he shook Peggy’s hand. “Martinelli. Nice to see you again.” He said as both woman sat down in their respective seats. He noticed the way Peggy avoided looking at Angie. “I understand you wanted to see me.”

            “Yes.”

            Fury noticed the way Angie avoided eye contact as Peggy spoke and chalked it up to a lover’s quarrel that spilled into the workplace. _Wouldn’t be the first time._

 

            Enhanced everything didn’t help her. She was hanging on Peggy’s every word despite knowing everything that was being disclosed. She didn’t hear the elevator when it dinged on whatever floor they were on, or the heavy boots that made their way along the walkway. She was focused on the fact that Peggy hadn’t even glanced in her direction, hadn’t even glanced at her or reached for her hand when Fury went through everything.

           

He knew he should’ve called ahead or knocked or something but he couldn’t think of a good reason to announce anything when everyone knew he had the worst sleep habits; the only person who kept his midnight hours was Fury or Natasha and she hadn’t picked up when he called. He sighed before turning the knob.

            Fury’s door opened.

            It was as though the universe wanted to have a serious laugh at her expense. Angie turned and the world stopped.

 

            Steve was certain he was hallucinating.

 

            _Not here. Not now._

He had to be tired, beyond exhausted, pushing the limits of his super soldier serum that it was causing him to completely crack up and see Peggy Carter sitting in Nick Fury’s office as gorgeous as she had been the last time he’d seen her decades ago.

            _Before I went into the ice._

 

“Oh… he breathed, taking a cautious step into the office, eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the woman in front of him, gear falling all over the floor in his surprise.

“Peggy…”

Fury’s good eye went wide. Angie’s eyes closed in defeat.

“What the hell’s going on…?” he asked, stepping into the office in shock.

“ _Steve?”_ Peggy asked in disbelief.

 

The world stopped.

 

            _1980_

_Angie was drunk again on a rooftop. She remembered Howard said something about metabolism and being unable to actually_ **get** _drunk but here she was, on a rooftop, surrounded by a bunch of drunks on a rooftop watching the fireworks going off overhead, a steady buzz clouding her mind. She had gotten better about the crying bit but that ended the moment a leggy brunette approached and asked if she had light. She didn’t have Peggy’s accent but she had her swagger and for a moment Angie thought she was drunk enough to kiss the woman. She stared at her for a moment, whiskey goggles nearly blinding her before she shook her head and mumbled, “Sorry, I don’t smoke.” The woman sauntered off, Angie’s eyes watching the switch of her hips. She finished the last of the whisky, wiping her mouth with the back of her right hand as the night sky lit up. She crushed the plastic cup in her hand, wishing it were something more substantial._

_She hated the Fourth of July._

_She always wondered how they met._

_If he had been suave or some bumbling mess or vice versa. She knew that Peggy always took a moment on the fourth and it wasn’t until Peggy admitted that it was his birthday one night on the roof at the mansion that she understood. Not only was it a holiday, it was his goddamned birthday and she would always have that hanging over her head. It didn’t matter that the were lounging together on the chaise, wrapped around each other, watching the night sky light up with fireworks; he was always around somehow. She would kiss Peggy’s temple, her fingertips trailing along her inner wrist as they watched the night sky sparkle with fireworks and know she wasn’t all the way there with her. She remembered one festive evening when Peggy twisted in her arms, kissing her wrists softly before telling her to join her in bed. She liked that Fourth of July._

_She sighed, eyes on still the woman’s hips as she spoke to someone else, a curve to her smile like knife in her heart. Peggy could work a room like that too, when she wanted to._

_She made her way back to the med bay, her mind clear as she gripped Peggy’s left hand in hers, eyes watery with tears she wasn’t going to shed because she wasn’t 100 percent sure they weren’t fueled by the liquor she was burning out of her system. She kissed the back of Peggy’s hand softly, watching the monitors as they blinked away._

_“I love you, Margaret Carter. I need you to know that. I need you to understand that I will do anything to keep you safe.” She brushed back an errant strand of hair, her right hand cupping Peggy’s all too warm cheek. “I need you to understand that I will always fight for you. I will go down swingin’ if it means you’re safe.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you with me that night. I wish I coulda just…,” she pressed Peggy’s knuckles against her forehead, searching for words. “kept you where you belonged. I could hate Howard til I’m blue in the gills but…Pegs. Just…come back to me will ya?”_

_She stopped going to anything Fourth of July related; she stopped going out period. It wasn’t that she stopped being patriotic but she just couldn’t handle the things that came with it. She couldn’t deal with handing out medals to those who served on behalf of S.H.E.I.L.D and their various efforts, she couldn’t stand the ceremonies, the fact that it was his birthday and it was a marker in the calendar for every time Peggy didn’t wake up. She let Dugan and anyone else interested in running the organization take over. She went to Howard’s funeral with Tony next to her, steely eyed, watching the rain and caskets feeling as though her life was being buried with them. She remembered Tony’s hand in hers, the way he trembled shaking hands with everyone afterwards. She hated it. She hated everything about this life and the fact that she had no one to share it with. She spent more time in the med bay, spoke to Tony on weekends and oversaw black ops missions. She needed distraction after distraction until she faded out of S.H.I.E.L.D’s purview; until Tony went missing in the Middle East. She oversaw that recovery operation, hating Obadiah Stane as he tried to overtake Stark Industries. She shouldn’t have counted Tony out but she did. It was just the way she handled problems; everything was a goddamned loss._

_She remembered the way Tony smirked at her during the press conference when he announced he was IronMan. He was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. She knew he’d be fine. He had Pepper. She had her work and obsession with Peggy. She was going to fix everything._

_It was going to be just fine._

 

Steve was silent as Peggy stood up in shock.

Fury and Angie exchanged looks, neither of them the same; hers was anxiety while his was complete shock.

_You’re my gal and I would go down swingin if it means you’re safe._

“What is going on?” Steve asked again, approaching Peggy who stood stock still, deep brown eyes locked on him.

“Steve…” Peggy breathed. Angie swore her heart had been ripped from her chest the moment Peggy said his name. “How…” He shook his head in disbelief, clearing the space in a moment, his hands reaching for Peggy’s shoulders, gently squeezing them to make sure she was really there. “But…” he looked over her head, missing Angie completely and staring Fury down.

“I need an explanation.”

Fury swallowed hard. “I guess you’d better sit down.”


	13. The Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets personal.

The Troubles

 

Angie felt the blood rushing through her body, surging through her, fists balled tight as she watched Steve and Peggy stare at each other, hands running up and down arms, squeezing at each other to make sure they weren’t sharing a mutual hallucination. She felt the air leave her lungs as he stepped closer to Peggy, his eyes searching her face for a sign this was a dream.

Fury’s right thumb flew across the screen of his phone, punching up Natasha’s number and texting. _Office. Now._ He glanced up from his phone, pocketing it and watching Steve and Peggy, aware of the seething rage that seemed to be radiating from Angie’s slender shoulders.

“It’s you.” Steve breathed. “How?” His right hand came up slowly, fingertips tangling the curls in Peggy’s hair. “I…I’ve been visiting you…”

“Visiting me?” Peggy replied in confusion. “What…how…”

Angie’s body went rigid and she felt Fury inch toward her, clearing his throat. “Agent Martinelli…” he said softly. Her lip curled at the sound of his voice; Peggy and Steve barely registered the small disturbance. He placed a sympathetic left hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He warned her and she knew what could happen, what the risks were; contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t a complete monster.

“What the hell is going on Fury?” Steve asked, averting his eyes from Peggy, the joy replaced with indignation. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“Rogers, we need to have a talk.” He said calmly, hoping Natasha was on her way; he was going to need her with Angie. “Agent Martinelli can explain.”

“So explain.”

Angie’s jaw tightened, the muscles working as she tamped down on the string of foul language that threatened to spill from her lips as she watched Steve step protectively between her and Peggy. She defiantly held Peggy’s gaze, daring her to move and doing her best to not let the hurt show when Peggy didn’t budge. “Let’s not do this here.”

“This is the perfect place.”

“There’s more to it than either of you know…” Angie tried holding Peggy’s gaze, avoiding Steve as she spoke. “There was a reason for this…”

The door swung wide and in came Natasha. “Did the octogenarians start throwing hands?” she asked, breezing in as she tucked her grey tee shirt into her black jeans. Angie let out the breath she had been holding, grateful for the agent’s arrival.

“Not yet.” Nick mused, nodding as Natasha stepped between Steve and Angie, gingerly bumping his left arm with her shoulder.

“I wouldn’t.” Steve interjected.

“She would.” She nodded towards Angie with a smirk. “We need to talk.”

Angie blinked and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, toeing the floor with her boot and trying to calm her racing heart.

           

            Steve and Peggy circled one another once they entered the small office space Natasha led them to. She still felt as though it was still an elaborate hoax, or a very intense hallucination. She noted the camera tucked into the corners of the room; they were being watched. Of course they were. She stopped at the top of the interview desk, watching Steve as he braced his palms on the back of the chair in the room. It was _him_. It was Steve. Steven G. Rogers stood across from her looking very much like the man he’d been when she last saw him on the wheel of The Valkyrie all those years back. She shook her head.

            “How are you here?”

            “You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.” He shrugged, pulling out the chair closest to him, holding it out for Peggy to sit.

            “Try me.”

            “Frozen in ice.” He chuckled, sitting on the edge of the table, folding his arms across his chest with a smirk. “Your turn.”

            “Apparently something similar…” she shrugged. “Science is quite tricky.”

“What happened?”

            “I’d been on a mission in Russia…ran into a friend…Was thrown into a stasis chamber, artificially frozen, kept alive and then taken out just as quickly by S.H.I.E.L.D. I only woke up recently.”

            Steve drummed his fingertips against his bicep in thought. “Why was it a secret?”

            “Angie’s doing.”

He nodded with a sigh. “She helped me adjust…”

“Did she?” Peggy asked, interest coloring her tone. “How?”

“There was a…here’s what you missed while you were sleeping dossier. Mostly historical facts, how the Dodgers were doing…”

“Traded to Los Angeles…” she shook her head. She’d hated LA. “Dreadful place.”

“Still haven’t been.” Steve shrugged. “Tony says I’d probably get sun burned…or burn out the sun…something like that.” He looked down and tapped his fingertips against the desktop between them. “That dossier didn’t mention you at all.”

“How did she introduce herself?”

Steve thought about their encounter. She was small, smart, fast; he recognized her as a survivor of the super solder program. “Said she was one of the directors for the Logistics division of S.H.I.E.L.D and she wanted to help make the transition easier.”

“Did she?”

“She helped yeah. She never mentioned you.” He pressed again, knowing that Angie had to be listening somewhere in the facility.

Peggy leaned back in her chair, watching him as he spoke. “Does that bother you? This is S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s built on secrets.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, sliding into the nearby chair and resting on his elbows, folding his hands under his chin. “I know it is. I was one of their star pupils.” The corners of his mouth quirked as he spoke, “You were there remember?”

Natasha leaned forward in her chair, studying their body language as they spoke. Angie hovered over her shoulder, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. They posted up in one of the control rooms, kicking the rest of the staff out to watch the conversation. Natasha knew both of them needed to fill the other in about what the other knew, leaving Angie the unenviable job of filling in the gaps and being caught in the crosshairs of two very grumpy people. “To be fair, why or how would I have made the connection to the two of them if I was trying to pretend I had no idea they were a thing?”

Natasha shrugged.

“I’m a super spy right? I’m supposedta tell everyone, hey, Peggy Carter’s on ice downstairs…nobody in S.H.E.I.L.D said a damn thing.”

Natasha leaned forward and lowered the volume on the monitor, turning in her chair to face Angie. “Angie.” She reached for Angie’s wrist as she paced. “I need you to take a second and appreciate the hilarity of this moment.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Both of them were on ice. He’s 90. You’re 80. You’re in an octogenarian love triangle.”

“Now ain’t the time to have a sense of humor, Nat.”

Natasha shrugged. “Barton would’ve found it funny.”

“Well, give him a call and let him sit here and watch this.” Angie muttered, reaching past Natasha to turn the volume back up. She stared at the console screen, eyes narrowed as she watched them chatting away like a couple on a first date in Starbucks. She lowered it again, biting her lower lip. “I made myself sick watching all the footage that came in with each Avenger profile, did ya know that? Just watching people sign up for this; from the agents down to the super powered ones. I saw everything, even when they all figured out what the hell they were doing on a personal level. It’s hard to operate in a world without someone isn’t it?” She closed her eyes and swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I sat and watched Banner and Ross, Stark and Potts, Odinson and Foster, hell even you and Murdock and I just felt myself getting sicker and sicker because it just meant that I wasn’t gonna get what _I_ deserved. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you, for all of you but it’s another batch of people in my life who are happy while I’m…what? Miserable? Cold? Empty? I ain’t alone but I don’t exactly feel cozy with the company.” She noticed the way Natasha’s face soured. "No offense."

“None taken.” Natasha replied offhandedly. “Besides Matt and I weren’t very long…” Natasha shrugged, trying to downplay the relationship. Matt Murdock was a very different man from the ones she was used to dealing with. Perhaps it was because he was blind that he saw all the different layers to her and didn’t see her for the person everyone else saw her as. 

“Doesn’t matter…” Angie sniffs, watching the live footage of Steve and Peggy in the psych room; him with his strong jaw and handsome face, her with those big brown eyes and dazzling smile. She felt like an intruder, spying on an intimate moment. “He gets you, you get him. That’s enough.” she watched the way Peggy stared at him, like he was the greatest thing in the world. “She used to look at me like that.” she folded her arms across her chest, sighing as she watched.

“She still does.”

“No she doesn’t. She doesn’t know me, said so herself.”

“She was angry…”

“She’s right.” Angie replied through clenched teeth. “D’know who I was before all of this?” Angie spreads her hands encapsulating the room filled with controls, screens and wires. “My pop was a mafia enforcer, on the way up through the Lower East Side from Brooklyn. He told me, I didn’t need that kinda life, where I was some moll, some bully. I should just be a good girl, go to secretary school, find a nice fella, settle in…pop out some kids.” she scoffed. “I wanted to be an actress. I was always singin and dancin around the house.” She pointed with her chin towards the screen. “She’d listen to me rehearsin’ my lines.” A sad smile crossed her lips at the memory, “I went on audition after audition, getting passed on left and right. I worked at the Automat where the pay was lousy, the customers’ regular jackasses and my dreams were just fadin’ away. I was about to quit and she was there, like God Himself saw fit to drop an angel at my table and turn my frown upside. I thought she was down because she’d gotten into something at work; I didn’t know she was an agent. Thought she worked at New York Bell Company as a telephone operator with dreams like mine. First time I talked to her, she was lookin’ at a picture of him in the paper, she looked so sad. I just wanted to make her smile the way she made me smile. I thought her legs were legendary…” Angie swallowed hard, turning from the screen. “I think the world of her and I did what my pop warned me about to make it work. I lied to her, I bullied people and pretended that he didn’t exist just to make it easier."

“You didn’t lie.” Natasha softly replied, seeing her surrogate in a different light. There was more Angela Martinelli’s determination to survive S.S.R experiments and create S.H.I.E.L.D. She had tried to keep the one person that mattered safe and she’d done it at all costs. She’d simply become one of the better monsters.

“Course I did. I told her a version of the truth.” Angie sighed. “He didn’t need to exist anymore for her to be mine. She tossed his blood into the East River. She came back to me and we…” she shrugged, suddenly very embarrassed by her rant. She tried to keep things like this to herself, she didn’t want to overshare her life with someone she’d once considered a rival. “I let her grieve, let her heal and I waited…I’ve always waited…I’m the dictionary definition of patience.” she said sardonically, raking her hands through her hair pulling it into a messy bun, doing her best to not turn around and watch them on the monitor as they spoke. She didn't want to listen; watching them was torture enough. “Five years, Natasha, we were makin’ it work. I was on Broadway, she was here, directing things…then…she was gone. We switched roles."

“You think you’re the only one who’s had to operate with a busted heart? Stark had a giant magnet keeping pieces of metal out of his…”

“That ain’t the same.”

“Granted but we’re all broken somehow.” Natasha admitted, nodding towards the screens. “We fix ourselves. We let other people fix us. We work until we can’t and until something else makes us feel better.”

Angie finally turned, watching the screen. “I never really felt like someone who needed to be fixed. She always saw me differently, I wasn’t some big dreamin’ theater kid who’s dad scared the bejeezus out of people for crime bosses, I was someone who got her a place to stay when she was convinced it wouldn’t be safe, listened to her when she needed someone. She never questioned anything and she always looked at me like I was perfect…She was worried about messin _me_ up, and I was always worried about her cause I didn’t know what she was up to but I was always there…always.” 

“You weren’t broken Angie…”

“I was without her…” she replied sadly, watching as Steve reached for Peggy’s hand, holding it in his own, a smile on his face. She turned away, leaving Natasha to watch as Peggy pulled away, her mouth moving as she spoke, a crestfallen expression on Steve’s face. She squinted to read her lips; was telling him about Angie. “Hey…Angie…” she turned her head, turning in her seat to find the room empty.

“Funny thing, the truth.” Nick Fury was staring at the back of his gloved right hand, flexing his fingers as he spoke. Angie had burst into his office demanding to know why Rogers was in the facility when he’d asked her to bring Peggy in. “It always bites you in the ass.”

“You did this.” Angie fumed.

“Did I? I mean, I told you to keep her in a safe house until we knew what we were dealing with. Did you listen to me? No.”

“So what? I _deserved_ this?!”

He leaned forward on his elbows, his fingertips in a steeple as he spoke slowly. “You decided to keep secrets in a place built on secrets. We have file after file on everyone and everything. You wrote the book on it, didn’t you? You wanted to keep him busy while trying to keep her out of the line of fire. I commend you, but Hill and I warned you. There’s a reason we have deep freeze, a reason why we have safe houses. These things happen.”

“I carried your sins. I kept everything together. I moved heaven and earth to make the things _you_ wanted to happen, happened. I kept _him_ sane while I was losing my sanity. I watched him shine all over again and she stayed in the shadows, the same as she did during’ the war and after. Howard did this out of duty, Steve did this out of respect. I did this for love. Everything. Every second moving pieces and connecting dots all come back to me. You don’t respect me, you don’t even think I’m worth a lick but you keep me because you’re afraid of me. Same as you’re afraid of Natasha and Bruce. We’re all monsters that were made for duty, honor and love. We are the nightmares that keep the nightmares up at night. We will do things that others won’t. So yeah, I wanted to keep a goddamned secret and I expected you to at least respect that much.”

Fury stared Angie down with his good eye, the muscles in his jaw flexing.

“Well. It would seem that your troubles are all our troubles, Martinelli.” He moved, reaching for a folder and tossing it towards the edge of his desk. “Rogers is working on something that’s connecting to Agent Carter. And The Winter Soldier.”

Angie looked at the folder with interest, reading Rogers field notes. _God, even his handwriting is impeccable._ “What’s this?”

“Rogue Hydra agent, a guy named David Strucker has been tampering with some pretty old serums, dangerously close to what was in Peggy’s blood. Rogers and his team linked it to a place in DC but the trail went cold. Turns out, he’d turned regular citizens into fighting zombies.” He leaned back in his chair. “Rogers suspects that that’s why that soldier has been such a pain in the ass, someone’s been juicing him up regularly.”

“And you think this is the guy?”

“As close to the guy as we’re going to get.”

“What’s the plan?”

“You and Rogers will take a team out stop this guy from doing any more damage and maybe even track down his buddy with the robotic arm. Think you can handle it?”

Angie’s jaw tightened. “I give you a grand ol speech and you give me a mission.”

Fury shrugged. “We’re soldiers. We get out of our feelings and into the fight.”

Angie collected the file and nodded, leaving Fury’s office angrier than ever.

 

Peggy’s arms tightened around herself as she paced the room. She could feel Steve’s eyes on her, following her every movement.

“So.” He said with a sigh. “She brought us together, just to…”

“She’s not keeping us apart. She never did.”

“Except for where she lied to the both of us.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“I was. Then I wasn’t. She told me that you were in a hospice, struggling with Alzheimer’s. You…you remembered me. Yours was the last voice I heard on that plane.”

“I know.”

“We never did get that dance.” He looked down, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She could see his heart breaking and she wanted to hate Angie for all of this but couldn’t bring herself to hold onto that feeling long enough. She somehow understood the logic and reasoning. “No, we didn’t.” She studied him as he stared at the floor, the scuffs on the toes of his boots. She stepped towards him, reaching for his hand and settling into a gently sway.

“I’m afraid I’m not a very good dancer…”

“Just don’t overthink.” She smiled, his shoulder strong and steady under her hand. “And watch my toes.”

Steve chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest before his smile faded.“Is she good to you?” he murmured into her hair, the palm of his right hand warm and high on her back.

Peggy nodded. “The best years of my life.”

“And now?”

“She continues to amaze me.”

Steve nodded, cradling Peggy in his arms, enjoying the moment for what it was before the door swung open and Angie stepped inside. They abruptly parted; cheeks pink as though they’d been caught doing something more than dancing.

“Rogers.”

“Angie…” Peggy started as Angie sidestepped her and walked towards Steve holding out the folder Fury handed her. “Debrief in ten minutes.”

She regarded Peggy for a moment. She couldn’t be cold to her and she couldn’t blame her; just like everything else, she had been the architect for all of this. Fury was right. Sins can be forgiven, lies can’t. “You’re welcome to join.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, turned heel and walked out of the room, leaving both Steve and Peggy at a loss for words.

 

Clint, Sam and Natasha fell into step behind Steve as they made their way into one of the conference rooms where Fury and Angie stood at the front of the room, Peggy had taken the first seat closest to the Director, watching the way Angie moved with military precision over the map that took up the center most part of the table.

“Thanks for meeting.” Angie said to no one in particular. “Captain Rogers, Director Fury brought something to my attention today that he feels could use both of our skills. And the rest of the team of course.”

Peggy felt a chill in the air. Angie, sweet kind Angie had been replaced by a calculating composed woman who had fallen into formalities instead of her usual banter. She watched the scene with interest, leaning back in her seat as Angie spoke.

“You’re talking about the Faustus serum.”

“Yes.”

Steve straightened up. He was addressing two directors on one thing that needed everyone’s attention; he needed to save Bucky just as badly as Angie needed to save Peggy. “It was a recon mission with a few pieces of evidence that at first seemed to be connected to Buck…The Winter Soldier…We followed the breadcrumbs to a facility in the DC area where we discovered that Barnes had been receiving treatment while there. In the basement of a bank, there was a type of brain mapping and…for lack of better wording, lobotomy machine that I suspect he was strapped to and reprogrammed. Since our encounter in Washington, I had a hunch that he’d stayed in the area, or kept moving to find other Hydra facilities that could help me. I think he’s in withdrawal now but Strucker is out there with his drug and what he can do to people…”

“So now we’re chasing down a high powered addict.” Clint added unceremoniously. “I liked it better when he was just a psycho with a vendetta.”

Natasha nudged Clint’s boot with the toe her own.

“The last known locations for both Strucker and Barnes are here.” Angie waved her palm over the map, raised it slightly above the table and pulled out two locations marked Barnes and the other Strucker. “They’re circling around each other. My guess, is that Strucker is building his army out and stringing Barnes along for the muscle.”

“Is that how you’d do it?” Steve asked pointedly.

“That’s how Hydra would. That’s how everyone with power does it.”

“Hydra doesn’t have power.”

“Not yet.” She leaned back from the map, folding her arms across her chest. “Ideas?”

“I say we track them, take Strucker out and recover Barnes.” Steve replied.

 

“Who’s thinking like the enemy now?”

 

“What can this Faustus thing do?” Sam asked, hoping to diffuse the rising tension.

 

“It’s an injection. The serum works it’s way through your system and with repeated doses, seems to create a sort of, enhanced trance. You can do a bunch of nasty things and with an electrical treatment, be wiped clean like a slate just to do it again.” Fury replied, nodding towards the screen that displayed the results of various samples, including Peggy’s.

“So a Manchurian Candidate thing but without a magic word?” Sam asked, nodding with his chin towards the footage from their encounter with Strucker’s drones.

“Correct. He can program them with anything, provided they’ve got enough of the stuff in their system to hear him.”

“They had headphones in. Little earbuds. Could they be getting a signal from that? Something that keeps telling them to kill?” Natasha added, pointing towards a photo of one of the attackers in a hospital ward. “Or something to wipe them?”

“Possible, but that’s up to you all to figure out. I want Strucker down. Hydra knows we’re vulnerable and they’ll use this kind of chaos to organize themselves.” Fury replied, closing down the screen and nodding towards Angie. “Martinelli and Rogers are point on this one. Give them the support they need.”

He nodded and left the room, his arms folded behind his back.

All eyes shifted between Angie and Steve.

“Okay. Let’s get planning.”

 

 


End file.
